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A MODERN LOVE STORY 


WHICH DOES NOT END AT THE ALTAR 


BY 



HARRIET E. ORCUTT 

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Copyright, 1894 

By Charles H. Kerr & Company 


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DEDICATED TO 

(Blla 

IN MEMORY 

OF A FRIENDSHIP WHICH WILL ENDURE 
AS LONG AS LIFE SHALL LAST. 


/ 



COJSi TENTS. 

CHAPTBR page 

I. The Proposal 7 

II. The Courtship 40 

III. The Decision 61 

IV. Setting the Day 67 

V. Their Wedding Trip go 

VI. Three Years After 103 

Vn. It is Better that We should Part. . 115 

VIII. A Night’s Adventures. Tramp, Rob- 
ber, Murderer — Which? 133 

IX. The Letter 155 

X. On Summer Seas 172 



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A MODERN LOVE STORY 


CHAPTER I. 

THE PROPOSAL. 

“I cannot love him; 

Yet I suppose him virtuous, know him noble: 
***** 

In voices well divulged, free, learn’d and valiant, 

And in dimension, and the shape of nature, 

A gracious person; but yet I cannot love him.” 

Shakespeare. 

“Esther, do you love me?" 

Two people were sitting in a pleasant, cozy 
room, which contained, in addition to the usual 
furniture, an easel, a bookcase, and a piano. It 
bore the appearance of a room much in use. 

The lady addressed was sitting in front of a 
small canvas, busily putting in the background. 
The questioner occupied a large easy-chair a few 
feet away. They had been talking about church 
7 


8 


A Modern Love Story 


matters. Then there was a short silence while he 
watched her as she worked. Abruptly he had bro- 
ken it by his question, which, it seemed to him, 
ought not to be unexpected. She did not answer 
for a time, but worked on. A flush stole over 
her cheek then faded away. If one had been near 
enough, one could have seen that her hand trem- 
bled and her brush no longer obeyed her will. 
She was daubing, not painting. He watched her 
until the silence became painful, and then re- 
peated his question in the same calm, even tone. 

"Esther, do you love me?" 

"It seems to me that is a very peculiar ques- 
tion for you to ask,” she replied in a tone which 
she strove to make as calm and even as his. 

"Why? Why is it a peculiar question for me 
to ask?" he persisted. 

"Because — you know the answer already.” As 
she said this her trembling hand gave one vi- 
cious daub, which it would cost her an hour’s la- 
bor to repair. She threw down her brushes and 
palette and turned and faced him. "You know 
that we all — like you." There was a moment’s 
hesitation before the word "like. ’’ 

"I did not say ‘like^, Esther, I said love." 


The Proposal 


9 


“Well, love, then if you prefer that word. You 
know that we all love you, and have for years, 
ever since you married Jennie and became a mem- 
ber of our family.” 

“We all, then, includes the whole family?" he 
asked with a smile that told her she had not 
helped matters by her attempted evasion of the 
question. 

“Yes." 

“I don’t know but that is rather inconvenient, " 
he observed passing his hands through his hair 
with a motion peculiar to him when perplexed. 
“If they all love me, is it my duty to ask the 
whole family to marry me? I am not a Mormon 
you know!" 

“How perfectly absurd you are to day!" she 
answered with an air of vexation although she 
was unable to repress a smile. "I wish you would 
go away and let me work in peace,” she continued 
picking up her palette and brushes. 

He rose from his chair, walked over to the 
piano, sat down and idly ran his fingers over 
the keys. “Do you love me, Annie darling, do 
you love me?" he sang, while the artist by the 
window tried to work, and wondered if there was 


lo A Modern Love Story 

any way of escape from this question which she 
dreaded to face. Presently he came and stood 
behind her chair and watched her. She worked 
on conscious that every stroke of her brush in- 
jured the painting. Did he know it, too? If he 
did, what would he think? The silence was op- 
pressive. Her heart was beating fast. What 
would come next? 

"Very gently he took the brushes and palette 
from her hand, and put them aside. "I want to 
talk with you, Esther; never mind the work 
now." Then he drew his chair close by hers and 
sat down. She moved back a little and faced 
him. It was an attitude of self-defense. 

"Esther, I love you, love you dearly, and I want 
you for my wife. You have not answered my 
question yet, and I must have an answer. I can 
not live in doubt. We are no longer children. 

This is a serious matter. . . I offer you 

all that a man can offer, my love, my life. Will 
you accept? Esther, do you love me? Will you 
marry me?” He tried to take her hands in his, 
but she drew them away. 

"No, Wayland!” she answered excitedly. "I 
shall never, never marry anyone. I do not believe 


The Proposal 


II 


in marriage; it is so often a failure! Just think 
of the divorces 1 And I suppose all those people 
thought they loved each other! I do love you; I 
love you too well to marry you. You are my own 
dear brother, just as dear to me as Harry. Why 
are you not satisfied? If we married, perhaps in 
a little while we should hate each other, . . . 
just as so many other married people do . . . 
You would require a great deal in a wife. I 
should disappoint you and then you would tire 
of me. I would rather die now, than to be mar- 
ried to a man who would tire of me. I know 
what you would say; but don’t waste your breath 
in saying it! It is what they all say — but the 
divorce courts tell a different story. And then 
even if you did not tire of me — it might work the 
other way! I might tire of you. I should never 
be content if you proved to be less than I think 
you. ... If you were perfect, m}^ imperfections 
would grate upon you. Don’t you see — either 
way we put it the experiment would turn out 
wrong. One or both would be dissatisfied. 
Better death while we respect and esteem each 
other, than an unhappy marriage, which would 
lower us in our own and each other’s estimation, 
and degrade the good which is in us." 


12 


A Modern Love Story 


“We are both seeking to live the ideal life,” 
he interrupted. “Let us help each other. A real 
marriage is a marriage of souls. Let us work to- 
gether and aid each other to rise. Esther, I need 
you. Help me.” 

“I doubt my ability to aid you. I need help 
myself. The perfect life — it is never reached! 
And then you know there are so many points 
on which we disagree. And besides, if there was 
no other reason, this one would be sufficient : I 
never could be a minister's wife!" 

“Surely, you would not ask me to give up my 
pulpit?” he asked, growing a shade paler. 

“No; because I think that is the place you 
are best fitted to fill. Although I don’t believe 
half the doctrines you preach, I would not dare 
to ask you to stop preaching. I know that you 
are helping many people to lead better lives, 
and that your influence is for good. But what 
would you do with an unconverted wife — for that 
is what your congregation would call me?" 

“I would convert you,” he said fixing his eyes 
earnestly upon her. “You are not half so far 
from God as you imagine.” 

“There it is again! We should be perfectly 


The Proposal 


13 


wretched! I have no desire to be 'converted* as 
you term it. I never could think as you do or 
as Jennie did. You would try to make me, and if 
you did not succeed you would be miserable; and 
then I should feel as if I were persecuted. If I 
married you I should lose my freedom of thought 
and action. It never would do for the minister’s 
wife to stay at home from prayer-meeting and 
yet attend Christian Science lectures or a theos- 
ophy class. Think how it would sound!” 

“Then the lectures and the theosophy class are 
dearer to you than I am? You love them better?” 

"If you choose to put it that way. Freedom 
of thought and action are very dear to me. I will 
not willingly put myself in a position to lose the 
right to either.” 

"And you could not trust me?” he asked 
hoarsely. "You think that I would play the ty- 
rant?” 

"From the very nature of the case, how could 
you do otherwise?” 

“I thought I heard you say not long ago that 
you found the doctrines of Christian Science 
most unsatisfactory.” 

"Perhaps you did; but it does not follow that 


14 A Modern Love Story 

I am willing to give up my right to look into 
such matters all I choose." 

"It is the right that you are contending for, 
then? It seems to me that such little matters as 
that could be adjusted — if you loved me.” 

"But you do not understand. Theosophy is 
not a little matter to me! It helps me to solve 
the problems of life which have perplexed me 
for years. It gives me new hope for the op- 
pressed toilers of the world, and more faith in 
the final triumph of good. . . The misery of 

the world lay upon me as a heavy burden. I 
had come to the point where I doubted God’s 
justice. Why should one child Jje born to a 
throne, and another to a slum? Why should all 
opportunities be placed in the hands of one, 
while to the next every door is closed?” 

"Such problems humanity never will be able 
to solve — in this life. Theosophy cannot help 
you there. ” 

"But theosophy does help me right there at 
that exact point! Theosophy teaches that we 
are what we have made ourselves; that our fut- 
ure condition will be the result of our present 
action; and that justice, eternal justice, is the 


The Proposal 


15 


foundation upon which all other laws are built. 
I have learned to believe in justice so perfect, so 
far-reaching that it includes all things that have 
life. ” 

“We all believe that God is just. An unjust 
God is not to be thought of — it is a contradiction 
of terms. The seeming injustice of life is only 
apparent, not real. We all believe that.” 

“Do we? That is the point at which the skep- 
tic first begins to doubt. Theosophy teaches 
that what we sow, that — and naught else — shall 
we reap. Our harvest, be it of good or of evil, 
none other can gather. If we do evil, evil will 
return upon us — and there is no escape from it. 
If we sow good the harvest will be good. The 
law of justice is as certain, as inexorable as the 
law of action and reaction. He who gives hap- 
piness to others shall in time receive happiness. 
He who causes others to suffer, shall not escape 
suffering though he fly to the ends of the universe. 
The evil he has done will pursue him, even be- 
yond the gates of the earth.” 

“I too, believe that our future condition will 
be the result of our present action. But I also 
believe that forgiveness has a rightful place in 
the universe.” 


1 6 A Modern Love Story 

"The evil-doer may be forgiven, but he must 
suffer the consequence of his evil deeds. You 
tell a child not to put its hand in the fire. The 
child disobeys 5^ou and is burned. You may for- 
give the child for its disobedience, but that does 
not remove the pain from the burn. " 

“That illustration is not exactly applicable. 
The child disobeys me and I forgive it. But the 
child also disobeys the law of nature, and for 
that disobedience no other than the law-giver 
would have power to forgive. Would you say 
that God had no right to forgive that child?" 

"Not to remove the penalty. It would be un- 
just to remove the penalty in one case and not 
in all." 

"And removing the penalty would make havoc 
of the law, you think? The point has interest. 
Do you discuss such subjects in the theosophy 
class?” 

"Yes; we are highly interested in ethical ques- 
tions." 

"But theosophy and ethics — I fail to see the 
relation between them." 

“Some of our members would tell you that the- 
osophy is the foundation upon which ethics rests. 


The Proposal 


17 


Theosophy teaches that the cup of our life is put 
in our hands to fill. If we fill it with good deeds 
the drink will be sweet to the taste! But if our 
deeds be evil, then will the cup of life be filled 
with bitterness; and we must drink its contents 
— sometime. He who uses life to search for good, 
will find additional power to do good as he passes 
on his journey. Theosophy lifts our feet above 
the clouds of doubt and despair which enshroud 
the earth, and places us upon the mountain-tops 
where we can catch a glimpse of the very gates 
of heaven.” She paused a moment after this en- 
thusiastic speech, and then continued hesitatingly, 
"There is much that I do not understand. Very 
likely I never shall understand — but I could not 
give up studying. It represents to me*what your 
pulpit represents to you — the highest.” 

“But, Esther — is it possible that you mean all 
you are saying? I had no idea the subject had 
gained possession of you to this extent! I thought 
it was more a literary amusement than anything 
else. I never dreamed that you were taking it 
in earnest. Of all 'isms’ it seems to me theosophy 
contains the most absurdities. Surely you do 
not believe in re-incarnation and theosophy, I 
understand, teaches that.” 


1 8 A Modern Love Story 

“To begin with; theosophy is not an ‘ism.* It 
would be nearer true to say it is the foundation 
upon which all ‘isms’ are built, or the source 
from which all ‘isms’ are brought forth. Think 
of the meaning of the word — divine wisdom, 
knowledge of God.” 

“That sounds very fine, but I looked it up in 
Webster’s dictionary the other day, and that calls 
it ‘supposed intercourse with God and superior 
spirits,’ and speaks of the ‘attainment of superior 
knowledge by physical processes.’ Have you 
made the acquaintance of any superior spirits 
yet, Esther? If so, how do they look and act? 
How do they spend their time? Suppose you 
describe them for my benefit!” 

“Webster was a wise man, but he did not know 
everything, and theosophy was one of the things 
which he knew nothing at all about,” she an- 
swered with spirit. 

“But theosophy teaches re-incarnation, does it 
not?’ 

“Some theosophists teach re-incarnation, ” she 
replied with composure. 

“Do you believe in it, Esther?” 

“Why do you ask?” 


The Proposal 


19 


“Why do you decline to answer?” 

“I have a right to believe what I choose.” 

“No matter how absurd it is?” 

“What you consider absurd, I may know to be 
true. ” 

“Re-incarnation for instance?” 

“I did not say that, Wayland. ” 

“But you meant it!” 

“I am merely saying that you have no right to 
interfere with my belief. ” 

“But haven’t I a* right to convince you of its 
absurdity?” 

“You are not complimentary.” 

“Of its inconsistency then!” 

“Do you think I wish to be convinced? Don’t 
you see how it is? How could we walk together 
in peace when our views are so inharmonious? 
It would be better for you to marry a woman 
without views, than one who disagrees with you 
on so many points. It would be impossible for 
me to think as you do, and no doubt it is equally 
impossible for you to think as I do. We would 
have discussions for breakfast, arguments for 
dinner, and disagreements for supper. Should 
you require me to give up the study of theosophy 


20 


A Modern Love Story 


I should feel that you were interfering with my 
personal liberty, my liberty of conscience.” 

‘‘I grant your point,” he said musingly. "You 
have a right to study it — unless I can persuade 
you not to. ” 

"But that is the exact point! I contend that 
you have no right — would have no right — to try 
to persuade me not to I The attempt to persuade 
would be interference with my right to do what 
seems to me best to do. I have the same right 
to have my belief respected, that you would claim 
in regard to your own. I have the same right 
to attend a theosophy class that you have to at- 
tend a prayer-meeting.” 

"I see,” he said slowly, "1 see. I had no idea 
that theosophy had gained such a hold on your 
mind. Perhaps there is more to it than I sup- 
posed. . . Good attracts good. If there is good 
in theosophy you will find it. To me, it seems 
a mere mass of ghost stories and other nonsense 
— but then you know more about it than I do. 
Perhaps I am not a competent judge. I am 
aware that many highly cultured men and women 
find it interesting or instructive or both. Let 
that objection pass. We will both think it over. 


The Proposal 


21 


I acknowledge that the difficulty is serious, but 
I think it can be adjusted. Go on with your list 
of objections. I conclude you must have a list. 
How long have you been preparing it?” 

"Wayland!” she exclaimed in a tone of expos- 
tulation. 

“Esther!” he replied in the same tone. 

He rose and began pacing up and down the 
room. She leaned wearily back in her chair and 
shaded her eyes with one hand, that she might 
shut out the last rays of the afternoon sun, which 
came through the window and lighted up her 
hair. By and by he paused at her side and stood 
with folded arms looking down upon her. 

“Esther,” he said, in low deep tones which 
thrilled her whole being and filled her with 
alarm, “I believe that you love me and will one 
day be my wife. Did I not believe this I should 
not say what I am about to say. I am going to 
speak of the dead. I believe that you have not 
mentioned your most serious objection. Pardon 
me, if I say the objections you have mentioned 
are — childish. Such matters could be adjusted. 
You know that I am not a tyrant. You know 
that Jennie’s marriage was not a failure. She 


22 


A Modern Love Story 


was happy in her married life. You know that 
our love was deeper, stronger, purer, the day of 
her death than it was on our wedding day; and 
you know that we loved each other then as well 
as youth is capable of loving. Perhaps you think 
that because I loved Jennie my heart is exhausted, 
and I cannot love you. That thought shows lack 
of acquaintance w'ith the human heart. Jennie 
has gone on. We both loved her and she loved 
us. She loved us so truly and unselfishly, that 
I fully believe if she could speak to us now, she 
would say, ‘Join your lives and be happy together.* 
Esther, you have no need to be jealous of the 
dead! While Jennie lived I loved her with my 
whole heart. Death took her. My heart turns 
to you, not with the mad passion of youth, but 
with the calm reasonable love of maturity. You 
are dearer to me than any one else on earth. Is 
not that enough? You would not wish me to 
compare my love, and say that 1 loved you more 
or Jennie less. That I — ” 

"No, no, Wayland!” she interrupted. "You 
misunderstand me entirely, and misinterpret my 
feelings. I loved Jennie, too, and I know my 
sister well enough to believe, that if she thought 


Thx, Proposal 


23 


we would be happier together than apart, she 
would, as you say, bid us join our lives. But 
would we be happier together? That is the ques- 
tion! I think not. I am not like Jennie. She 
enjoyed housekeeping. I detest it. She had no 
especial love for any art except music, and in 
that her highest ambition was to be able to play 
5'our accompaniments. I love painting and it 
would be hard for me to give it up. My objec- 
tions are practical rather than romantic.” 

“Why should you give up painting?” 

“That is just a man’s idea of things! Perhaps 
I could sit up nights and paint by moonlight! 
There would be no other time.” 

“Why?” 

“Because — you are not rich. Ruby will be 
in school for years yet. If we married we could 
keep but one girl, and I would have the care of 
the house, and in addition would have to enter- 
tain company and perform all the multitudinous 
duties of a minister’s wife. There would be no 
time for painting or music. I hate mending! I 
should be sure to sew all the buttons on wrong 
side out or upside down! I never would be able 
to remember how many sheets or napkins went 


24 


A Modern Love Story 


to the laundry! And when the girl left suddenly, 
I shouldn’t know how to cook anything but pota- 
toes. Could you get up a good Sunday’s sermon 
on potatoes unadorned, for breakfast, for dinner, 
tor supper, three days in succession?” 

"I am willing to take the risk. I think I could 
stand the potato diet as long as you could,” he 
answered with a smile. “You have not frightened 
me out yet.” 

“It may do to smile about in theory,” she an- 
swered severely, “but in practice it would be a 
serious matter.” 

“I don’t see but what you will have to attend 
a cooking school. ” 

“Never! when I decide to marry, mother will 
teach me, and I will practice on the family. If 
you die of indigestion before the wedding day it 
will be your own fault!” 

“Suppose we set the wedding day now, and 
you begin practicing on the family to-morrow,” 
he said jocosely. 

“I shall never marry,” she replied with great 
gravity. 

He turned from her and began walking up and 
down the room. 


The Proposal 


25 


“I made up my mind on that subject years 
ago,” she continued. “I am not domestic enough. 
Why should I marry? I am satisfied as I am. 
My class at the Art Institute furnishes me with 
an income which I would not like to give up. I 
should be sorry to be obliged to say ‘Would it 
please your lordship to give me five or ten dol- 
lars, every time I wanted a bit of canvas or a 
new paint brush. I like to be independent." 

‘‘That objection has no force,” he replied 
quickly. "Jennie had a share of our income, for 
household expenses and her personal use. It was 
as much hers as the remainder was mine. Ruby 
has a monthly allowance, as you know, and has 
had since she was old enough to know the use of 
money. I believe that the women of a family 
have as good a right to the contents of the family 
pocket-book, as the men. As you say, I am not 
rich. I have nothing but my salary, which is not 
princely. It is quite possible, that you might 
not have as much money to use, as you have now; 
but Jennie never suffered ! I cannot promise you 
more than your share of all that I have. But 
you are not a money-worshiper, Esther, I think 
we could be very comfortable on my salary. " 


26 


A Modern Love Story 


"How mercenary it all sounds! And yet — such 
things must be considered. We are not children. 
We ought to be sensible enough not to rush 
hastily into anything of which we would repent 
afterward. There is no reason why you should 
not continue to board with us for years. We see 
each other every day. I have leisure for my paint- 
ing and you for your studies. You and Ruby 
have all the comforts of a home. Father crit- 
icises your sermons; mother looks after your 
clothes ; Harry does errands for you; I play your 
accompaniments, Helen visits your sick people 
and helps about your charity work — we all do 
everything we can for you. I think you are 
much better off than you would be in a little, 
lonely, half-kept house, with nobody but Ruby 
and me to look after you. Why are you not sat- 
isfied?" 

"Because I love you, Esther!” 

"But that is no reason at all!" 

"Strange as it may seem, I prefer a home of 
my own. Do not think me ungrateful for all that 
you and yours have done for me since Jennie’s 
death. I owe you and your family a debt of grat- 
itude which I shall never be able to pay. Yet the 
little home with you and Ruby in it — ” 


The Proposal 


27 


“Would not be half so satisfactory!" she in- 
terrupted. "Be sensible, Wayland ! Don’t perse- 
cute me." 

His countenance darkened for a moment as 
her last words reached his ears. He walked the 
length of the room three times before he spoke 
again. 

"I thought I was doing the most sensible thing 
I could think of when I asked you to marry me. 
In what respect have I failed?" he asked ab- 
ruptly, changing his tone and manner from grave 
to gay. 

“How have you failed? In selecting me, of 
course,” she replied, her mood changing in re- 
sponse to his. They had been serious so long 
that this lighter tone was a relief to both. “If 
you are in search of a wife you should have come 
to me for a little sisterly advice.” 

“Very well! I am in search of a wife. Now go 
on with your sisterly advice. Whom shall I 
choose?" 

“Don’t be in such haste! It is a matter for 
careful consideration. First and foremost, she 
must be a good housekeeper. Secondly, she must 
be able to play your accompaniments. Thirdly, 
she must be orthodox." 


28 


A Modern Love Story 


"Firstly and foremostly, then, you are out of 
the question — not being a good housekeeper. 
Secondly, how would ‘Miss Rattle-Bang' do? I 
heard your mother say she was an excellent 
housekeeper. She is orthodox in her views, and 
she played my accompaniments last week passabl}- 
well. Which reminds me, I brought a new song 
for you to look over. I have been asked to sing a 
solo over at the First, Thursday night. Some 
kind of a charitable entertainment they are get- 
ting up — or shall I take it to Miss Rattle-Bang?” 

“Miss Rattle-Bang, as 5^ou call her, is too flighty. ” 

"Flighty? Young and flighty?” 

"Not particularly young. It is not her youth 
to which I object, but her giggles and general 
lack of good sense. It can’t be that you admire 
her!” 

“I thought it was a question of housekeeping 
— not of admiration. She possesses your three 
necessary qualifications; she can keep house; 
she can play; and she is orthodox. She doesn’t 
paint and I presume she can mend. She is a 
member of my church and I don’t think she 
would ever have any desire to attend mysterious 
lectures on strange and forbidden subjects. Miss 


The Proposal 


29 


Rattle-Bang it shall be by all means, unless you 
can mention some one still more appropriate. 
To be sure, twenty-five may be a little young 
for a man with three gray hairs and a bald spot 
coming. But then, one can’t expect everything 
in a wife? Have you any one else to suggest?” 

"Miss DeMar. ” 

"Unfortunately, I happen to know that Miss 
DeMar is already appropriated. I heard of the 
engagement yesterday. She is a lovely woman, 
and I congratulate the man who has succeeded 
in winning her affections. Do you think of any 
one else, whom you would consider suitable?” 

"Not at this moment. Give me time to think 
it over.” 

"While you are considering, I will study Miss 
Rattle-Bang — unless you change your mind, 
Esther, and conclude that you will accept the 
vacant position and save me from the flights and 
the giggles of Miss R-B. You will not? Then 
I must console myself the best I can. The ac- 
companiment to this song is a little difficult. I 
will have to see Miss R-B. and make arrange- 
ments to practice with her. Why that contempt- 
uous frown? Are you vexed with me so soon, 


30 


A Modern Love Story 


when I am doing my very best to follow your 
sisterly advice? What reasonable creatures wo- 
men are! Take them at their word, do exactly 
as they say they want you to, and then they are 
not satisfied! Come and play for me. I want to 
try that song we practiced last night. In half an 
hour the supper-bell will ring, and Pve an en- 
gagement out this evening.” 

“It isn’t here. Harry took it with him this 
morning.” 

“Never mind ! We will talk then. H^ve you 
any more sisterly advice to offer?” 

“None that I think of at present. If you will 
excuse me I will go up-stairs and — ” 

“But I will not excuse you. I foresee that I 
shall be very busy in the future. We may not 
have another opportunity for a long talk, and I 
have not quite finished. Perhaps you have not 
completed your list of objections. I should like 
to hear the rest.” 

“There are many other things which a woman 
contemplating matrimony ought to consider. You 
will find that the list of objections is too long to 
be overcome. I never hear of a divorce with- 
out feeling thankful that I am still a free wo- 


The Proposal 


31 


man. Marriage certainly is what you and I would 
consider a failure, in most cases. If we loved 
each other less five years after, than we did on 
our wedding day, 1 should consider our marriage 
a failure. I have no fear that you would strike 
me or shoot me, but unkind words betweeen us 
would hurt as much as blows hurt some people.” 

"Esther, do you fear that I should ever treat 
you unkindly?” 

"No, Wayland, not consciously. But there are 
so many points of disagreement! How could we 
keep the peace when our views conflict? It may 
be your duty to voice what you believe to be 
the truth, but as we see truth differently, I could 
not help you. I don-t know but I should even 
tire of hearing you preach if I were obliged to 

go. ” 

"You mistake, Esther! You could help me. 
You have been an inspiration to me ever since 
I learned to know you. Many a time after a talk 
with you I have gone back to my study and 
rewritten my sermon. Some of my best ideas 
have flashed upon me while discussing the sub- 
ject with you. My verses always limp until you 
have applied the pruning knife. My accompa- 


32 


A Modern Love Story 


niments are never right until you have corrected 
them. Did you say I sang G flat instead of G 
in that last melody we were working out?” 

“You certainly sing G flat, and it sounds better. 
The chord should be changed to harmonize with 
the note — then anybody can play it for you.” 

"You see, Esther, I need you. There are other 
ways in which a minister’s wife can help him 
than by attending prayer-meeting, or doing church 
work. The church really has no rightful claim 
upon you, if you are not a church member. The 
church hires me, not you. You need never at- 
tend a prayer-meeting, or even go to hear me 
preach — until you wish to!” 

"Until I wish to! That is the exact point. You 
would be continually hoping that I would do 
what I wished not to do. I should have to yield 
my own individuality, my own personal wishes, 
and live for you and your interests, or you would 
be disappointed in me, and the world would con- 
sider me neglectful of my duty. You would not 
be willing to give up preaching in order to help 
me paint! Why should I be expected to give up 
painting in order to help you preach? Marriage 
is not an equal partnership. The woman is ex- 


The Proposal 


33 


pected to merge her individuality in the man’s, 
and to give up her life work in order to help him 
in his. It is unfair. The woman is expected to 
yield everything in return for the privilege of 
being taken care of. I am quite able to take care 
of myself. Why should I marry? There is much 
to lose and little to gain.” 

‘T am not a tyrant, Esther; and I have no de- 
sire that my wife should be a slave. If you wish 
to paint, I shall not object. I do not consider 
that I would have a right to object. I can assure 
you that I have no intention of interfering with 
your freedom of thought or action. When Jennie 
and I married we were young, and as you say, 
she merged her life in mine. Our characters were 
unformed; our aim in life unascertained. We 
worked out the problem together. I became a 
pastor, and she strove to become a model pastor’s 
wife. She succeeded, and she was satisfied. She 
planned no life work — aside from helping me. It 
is different with you. We are both older. Our 
characters are formed; our work in life ascer- 
tained. You are an artist; I am a preacher. Per- 
haps your art is as much to you as the ministry 
is to me. I never dreamed of asking you to give 


34 


A Modern Love Story 


it up. Keep your class if you wish, and paint. 
The housekeeping will arrange itself in some 
way. If worst comes to worst we can board, al- 
though I would like to have a home of my own. 
There is one other point which you have not 
mentioned, but which I know must have been in 
your mind. To a woman, it is perhaps, the most 
important point of all, and it would be a false 
delicacy which would prevent me from speaking 
of it. I refer to the question of maternit3\ I 
believe that to the woman belongs the right to 
say when she shall become a mother. So on that 
point there could be no disagreement, for you 
would have your own way.” 

"That is a question which no woman dares 
overlook. The right which you acknowledge is 
one which every woman who has a proper respect 
for herself will soon claim." 

*T fully realize that the woman of the future 
is to be a different being from the weak yielding 
creature of the past. She ought to be. But 
surely, Esther, I offer you all the freedom and 
independence a man can offer to the woman he 
asks to share his life. I am not seeking a mere 
housekeeper. I want mental companionship. I 


The Proposal 


35 


want a wife who will draw out the highest and 
best that is in me, who will help me to rise mor- 
ally and mentally; a wife who is interested in 
the subjects which interest me; a wife to whom 
literature is not a sealed book, to whom the 
thoughts of great thinkers are familiar as house- 
hold words; in short, Esther, I want you! Now 
what do you require in a husband?" 

"I don’t require a husband! If I were obliged 
to invest in one you would do as well as another. 
But a husband is an article for which I feel no 
need. Was it Gail Hamilton who said that a 
woman should never marry a man until she 
couldn’t live without him? I always thought it 
a very good rule, and shall try to follow it." 

"So?" he replied, rising from the chair which 
he had occupied for a few minutes, putting his 
hands in his pockets and smiling down at her. 
"So! You won’t take me until you can’t live 
without me? That is the idea, is it? I accept the 
challenge. " 

He turned and walked up and down the room 
a few times. She thought about telling him that 
she had not intended it as a challenge; but what 
was the use? It would only make more talk. 


36 


A Modern Love Story 


and she was tired. So she was silent. Presently, 
the supper- bell rang. She rose to leave the room. 
He stepped before her barring the way, and took 
both of her hands in his. 

“Listen, Esther, I am going to prophesy. You 
do not love me enough to marry me now, but the 
day will come when you will. The little differ- 
ences of which we have been speaking, will ad- 
just themselves, and the bond which unites us 
will grow stronger, purer and holier, as the years 
pass by. The strength of my love will conquer 
you But I want no unwilling bride. You must 
surrender and acknowledge that you need me, as 
I have acknowledged that I need you. Together 
we will solve the remaining problems of life. 
God helping me, Esther, you shall one day be 
my beloved wife.” 

She thought for one brief instant that he would 
kiss her, and tried to turn away. But he dropped 
her hands, went out through the hall and into 
his study, closing the door. 

She could hear the voices of the assembled fam- 
ily in the dining-room. For a moment she was 
tempted to escape up-stairs; but that might ex- 
cite comment! She could get through supper 
some way. 


The Proposal 


37 


She went to the dining-room. They were all 
talking and laughing which made it easier. 
Harry was relating an absurd incident which had 
occurred on the street. But how slow Wayland 
was! Would he never come? 

At last! From the moment of his arrival he 
led the conversation. How handsome he was 
looking! She had always been proud of her broth- 
er-in-law — so were they all! Her father leaned 
upon him as upon a son. He had always been 
a favorite with her mother. How lonely they 
would be without him! 

She escaped to her room as soon as possible, 
taking with her the canvas she had daubed rather 
than painted. How fortunate that it had been no 
farther along! Did Wayland realize what mis- 
chief he had worked with her picture? Sh3 sat 
down in her rocking-chair by the window and 
tried to think it all over. What had she done? 
Spoken her true thought and feeling. What else 
could she do? He had a right to the truth — and 
she had tried to tell him the truth. She had no 
wish to marry any one. That was the truth. Did 
she love him? Yes; and no. She loved him as 
she loved her brother Harry, but not as Jennie 


38 


A Modern Love Story 


loved him. Was she jealous of her dead sister? 
No; no I not that! She could never forgive him 
if he had not loved Jennie — if he ever ceased to 
love her. Jennie deserved his love. If she could 
only have lived! But as he' said, she was 
gone. 

Her memory wandered back to that evening so 
many years ago, when Wayland had asked her 
sister to marry him. After he was gone, her sis- 
ter had come and wakened her, to tell her the 
wonderful secret. 

“We are to be married after Wayland grad- 
uates,” she said. And Esther, child that she 
was, exclaimed with all a child’s impatience, 
“O Jennie! I thought we’d have the wedding 
right away, so I could have a new white dress. 
That’s almost a year ! How can you wait so long?” 
And Jennie answered, “I could wait forever, if I 
knew that he loved me.” And that was love! 
Merely to know that he loved her, made Jennie 
happy! It had no such effect upon her! She 
had been happier yesterday than she was now. 
This was only another responsibility, another 
problem to be solved. It was true, that she 
should feel very lonely if she should never see 


The Proposal 


39 


him again. It was also true that she was per- 
fectly able to live without him. She was wed- 
ded to art, she did not wish to marry. 


CHAPTER 11. 


THE COURTSHIP. 

“On what strange grounds we build our hopes and fears; 
Man’s life is all a mist, and in the dark 
Our fortunes meet us. 

Whether we drive, or whether we are driven. 

If ill, ’tis ours; if good, the act of Heaven.” 

Dryden. 

A week passed. Take it all in all it was a very 
strange week! To begin with, Wayland was never 
at home. He took breakfast early and was often 
gone before she came downstairs. He ate lunch 
in town and had begun accepting invitations to 
six o’clock dinners, instead of joining the family 
circle. He rarely came in before ten in the even- 
ing. Why did he seek to avoid her? But then, 
he was at liberty to do just as he chose, she re- 
marked to herself with a proud little toss of her 
nead. Sunday she did not attend church. 

The second week passed in the same strange 

40 


The Courtship 


41 


way. She had not exchanged more than a dozen 
sentences with Wayland since the end of their 
long conversation. All the week she told her- 
self that she would not go to church at all Sun- 
day, or that she would go somewhere else. But 
when Sunday morning came, after a short strug- 
gle with herself, she went — not because she was 
anxious to see or hear Wayland, of course, but 
because people might think it strange if she staid 
away! Yet she had not been in the habit of at- 
tending his church regularly! 

The third week came and went. There was no 
practicing together, no accompaniments to make 
up, no limping verses to cure, no passages from 
the next Sunday’s sermon to discuss ! When she 
met him in the hall or at the table, he was smil- 
ing and courteous as ever. But he asked no 
favors of her, and showed no inclination to seek 
her society. He must love her, indeed! This 
was a peculiar way of showing love! To avoid 
her society as much as lay in his power! She 
felt a little indignant yet would not own to her- 
self that she cared at all. Ruby was staying with 
a cousin and the house realJy was very lonely. 

The fourth week began in the same way. One 


42 


A Moder?t Love Story 


afternoon while she was at work in the studio, 
she heard a familiar step. Could it be possible? 
The study door opened and shut — it must be Way- 
land! Two minutes later he was looking over 
her shoulder and criticising her work. 

"That mountain at the right is well done. It 
is as lofty and inaccessible as yourself! But 
what is this over here? That cow’s tail looks 
exceedingly frisky. She will whisk it off if she 
is not careful!” 

"It is not finished yet. Perhaps it will look 
more securely fastened when it is.” 

"You must have run across a most unaccount- 
able breeze ! It certainly blows these branches 
to the right, and those to the left! Is this to be 
a river down here in this corner, or the shore of 
a lake? I’ll tell you! Just transport that cow 
and that breeze, cover the mountain with snow, 
and put in a vulture circling ‘Above the topmost 
snowy height’ and you will have something that 
will make one think of Verestchagin’s ‘Forgot- 
ten Soldier.’’ 

"I have no desire that my work should sug- 
gest Verestchagin’s.” 

"What! do you not admire him?” 


The Courtship 


43 


"Certainly; but I seek to produce upon my 
canvas the beautiful in both nature and art. Ver- 
estchagin loves best to reproduce the awful, the 
sublime, the majestic.” 

As she said this she put aside her brushes. It 
had cost her several hours work to repair the 
mischief she had done, during their former con- 
versation. She had no mind to cause herself 
trouble of that kind again. While he talked she 
would make no attempt to paint. 

"Tired?” he asked, glancing at her sharply. 
"Perhaps you would like a change of occupation. 
Suppose you play for me.” 

"Are you in a hurry?” 

"Not at all. Your mother gave me a special 
invitation to dine at home and to spend the even- 
ing with the family. I accepted, so here I am 
for the remainder of the day.” 

"It takes a special invitation to keep you with 
us, does it?” 

"The pastor of the Fifteenth has been in great 
demand of late. I dined last night with the New- 
markets. Miss Newmarket is very charming. 
Did you ever meet her?” 

"No; I never did.” 


i 


44 


A Modern Love Story 


“I think you would like her. She is a musi- 
cian; plays anything ordinary at sight, and sings 
too. She has a fine voice. It runs a note higher 
than yours.* Her people are very pleasant. I be- 
lieve they call her father a millionaire. He was 
extremely cordial and offered me the use of his 
library. I think I shall accept. It is one of the 
finest private libraries in the city. You have 
heard of it?” 

“Yes. " 

“They are evidently people of culture as well 
as wealth. A valuable acquisition to the congre- 
gation of the Fifteenth. Mrs. Newmarket seems 
to be an authority on German literature; she has 
full sets not only of Goethe and Schiller, but of 
Heine and Spielhagen and Schopenhauer and 
others too numerous to mention. She not only 
has them but she has read them, and, what was 
the worst of it, I couldn’t mention anything she 
hadn’t read. May I borrow your copy of Kinder 
der Welt? She mentioned something which I 
would like to look up. ” 

‘'It is hardly necessary to ask. You will find it 
in the usual‘place on the third shelf of the book- 
case. Is Miss Newmarket interested in German?” 


The Courtship 


45 


“Yes; they traveled in Europe last year and 
are going again next summer. She is taking 
languages at the Berlitz school — conversational 
method you know. I’d like to take a few lessons 
myself ! I read well enough, aber ich spreche es 
nicht gelaufig. And you persist in liking French 
better than you do German! How can you? 
French always sounds to me like the chatter of 
children, while German sounds strong and val- 
iant. And then their foolish habit of tearing a 
little word like not, into two, and scattering it 
through the sentence! Their de’s and a’s are 
enough to distract the brain of anyone who 
strives to use them according to a Frenchman’s 
ideas of propriety.” 

“The German’s tear quite as many words in 
two as the French and are quite apt to put 
them even farther apart. How absurd a Ger- 
jnan verb looks with its first half attached to the 
extreme end of a sentence seven lines long! And* 
I find German prepositions quite as troublesome 
as French. Does Miss Newmarket like German 
better than French?” 

“I think so. But — I haven’t shown you my 
latest, have I? It’s a little melody to go with 


46 


A Modern Love Story 


your verses, but Pm not sure what key to put 
it in. When we have decided, I want you to 
write out the chords. Wait — Pll play it myself 
and sing it for you, then we will work it out 
together. ” 

The evening passed, as so many other evenings 
had passed. "Oh, if it could only be like this 
always!" Esther thought. "Why could it not?" 

When she went to her room that night she sat 
down and thought it all over. How handsome 
he was — for a man with three gray hairs and a 
bald spot, as he was fond of saying. No wonder 
he was a social success. No doubt all the man- 
aging mammas with marriageable daughters 
would be setting traps for him. But Wayland 
had good sense. He would not be likely to marry 
anyone unworthy of him. It would be very hard 
to see another woman take Jennie’s place! It 
would be hard for Ruby, too! But then — she 
must not be selfish in the matter. He had 
a right to marry. She must expect that he 
would. The Newmarkets were charming peo- 
ple and Miss Newmarket was a lovely girl. She 
had never met her personally but she knew of 
her. The marriage would be very advantageous 


The Courtship 


47 


in every respect. Miss Newmarket would have 
money, so Wajdand could rest and travel. He 
needed rest. He had worked very hard all his 
life. A year’s travel in Europe would be a great 
benefit to him. And then perhaps he could do 
what he had always longed to do — devote him- 
self to work for the poor and to the study of social 
problems. Yes, a marriage with an heiress 
would be advantageous. Not that Wayland was 
mercenary! He was not! Still, wealth confers 
privileges. The Newmarkets were the right kind 
of people too! They would appreciate Wayland’s 
talents, his position, influence and family con- 
nections. They would not look down upon him 
because he was not rich, like some of our would- 
be American aristocrats. She thought it all over, 
looked at it from every side, and acknowledged to 
herself that she had no right to complain; yet 
there was a certain sinking of the heart for which 
she found it difficult to account. The years as 
they stretched forth before her, looked very long 
and very lonely. 

The days passed on much as before. They met 
at the table occasionally, but he made no attempt 
to seek her society. The Newmarkets were fre- 
quently mentioned. 


48 


A Modern Love Story 


“I say, Esther! What’s up between you and 
Wayland?” questioned her brother one morning 
a few days later. 

“Why do you ask?" 

“Oh, nothing! Only — 1 just wondered. You 
used to be together so much, and now he’s hardly 
in the house long enough to get his meals.” 

“I suppose he is busy.” 

“Stuff and nonsense! Who told you that? He’s 
over to the Newmarkets half his time.” 

“What makes you think so, Harry?” 

“Think? Don’t I know? I happen to be ac- 
quainted with Henry Newmarket. He thinks 
there is nobody on earth like Wayland — says 
they all do. It seems Wayland has been prac- 
ticing duets with his sister. I thought — you might 
like to know,” he continued slowly. 

“What absurd idea have you in your head 
now?” she asked sharply,putting down her brushes 
and facing him. 

“Have you and Wayland quarreled?” he asked 
persistently. 

“Quarreled? no, indeed! We never thought of 
such a thing. At least I never did, and 1 don’t 
believe Wayland ever has. Why should we quar- 
rel?” 


The Courtship 


49 


“Oh, well! it is all right if you think it is. 
I’ve nothing in particular to say — if you are sat- 
isfied 1” 

“What do you mean, Harry?” 

‘‘Haven’t you heard?” 

“No.” 

“Perhaps I’d better not tell!” 

"Do as you think best about your secrets. ” 

"It’s no secret. At least — not outside of this 
house. I heard yesterday that Wayland was en 
gaged to Miss Newmarket. Maybe you have 
known it for a week or two — but I didn’t. 1 am 
going down town. Anything to send for?” 

“No; not to da 5 ^ You brought the orange 
chrome last night, didn’t you?” 

"Yes; I put it in the case. Good-by,” and he 
was gone. 

Engaged to Miss Newmarket! Was it possi- 
ble? After vowing undying love to one woman, 
here he was promising to marry another one in 
a few weeks! He could not have known Miss 
Newmarket to exceed three months! Men were 
all alike! Changeable, untrustworthy creatures! 
She had thought Wayland an exception, but he 
had proved himself to be like all the rest — un- 


50 


A Modern Love Story 


stable as water. Did she regret her answer? 
Not in the least. She was thankful that she had 
had strength and will power to resist a love so 
weak and uncertain. Men were all alike! It was 
not worth while that a woman should give up 
her freedom for such vacillating creatures! And 
yet — it was strange! Wayland had been a faith- 
ful husband! She pondered long, but came to no 
satisfactory conclusions. Men were problems 
whose solution no ordinary woman could figure 
out. Thanks to her lucky star! She was not 
obliged to spend her life seeking the solution 
to any such problem ! 

An hour later she went into the sitting-room 
where her mother was seated sewing 

'T wish you would give Wayland another spec- 
ial invitation to spend the evening at home with 
us,” she said quietly. 

“Do you?” questioned the lady addressed, 
looking sharply at her daughter. “I thought 30U 
and Wayland had lost interest in each other.” 

"Oh, no! he is more interested in someone else 
— that is all. I hear that he is engaged to Miss 
Newmarket. I do not like to have him think that 
we are — dissatisfied.” 


The Courtship 


5J 

*‘I don’t believe it.” 

“Don’t believe what?” 

“I do not believe that Wayland is engaged to 
Miss Newmarket. How did you hear it? He has 
not told you so?” 

“No; I heard it indirectly. But — I think it 
is quite likely to be true.” 

“Esther !” 

Esther bore her mother’s searching look, with 
an impassive demeanor which betrayed no emo- 
tion — if she felt any. 

“Nevertheless, I do not believe it!” her mother 
continued after a moment’s silence. “I do not 
know what may have passed between you two 
— perhaps you have quarreled; but I do not be- 
lieve that Wayland is engaged or is likely to be 
engaged to Miss Newmarket. You have not 
given me your confidence, and it is not necessary 
that you should, as you are both old enough, and 
ought to be sensible enough to settle your own 
affairs. But — ” she hesitated a moment, “if you 
want the invitation given I will send it. What 
evening? Tuesday your father will be gone; 
Wednesday Helen and I have an engagement; 
Thursday is Wayland’s night at prayer-meet- 


52 


A Modern Love Story 


ing — it could not be before Friday. I’ll send him 
a formal invitation for Friday. Shall we invite 
any one to meet him?” 

' No; only the family and Ruby.” 

Wednesday morning, when Esther went into 
her studio to paint, she was conscious of the 
fact that Wayland had not left the house. That 
gentleman was, in fact, sitting by his study table 
in deep meditation. Two notes were before 
him. They were both short. One was written 
hastily on a leaf torn from a tablet and he had 
found it on his bible that morning. It contained 
these words: 

“Wayland : — I want my brother. 

"Esther. ” 

The other he had received from the hands of 
the postman, and it contained a formal invitation 
to dine with the family, Friday at six. 

“Perhaps I have overdone the thing a little,” 
he remarked to the cat on the window-sill after 
staring at the paper several minutes. “It hasn’t 
worked quite as I thought it would. I’ll have 
to try something else.” 

A few minutes later Esther heard a familiar 
footstep in the hall. Was he coming in answer 
to her note? 


The Courtship 


53 


"Oh, Esther! don’t you want some work?” he 
asked rushing into the room tempestuously as 
Harry was in the habit of doing. 

"Perhaps! What is it?” was her cautious re 
ply. When Harry asked her if she wanted work 
it might mean a task five minutes long or one 
five days long. She had learned caution by ex- 
perience. 

"Will you do it?" 

"Perhaps. What is it?” 

"Could you do it now?” 

"I’ll see. How long will it take?” 

"I couldn’t say.” 

"Give me some sort of an idea.” 

"Impossible !” 

"Why?” 

"Because it all depends upon whether you know 
how or not.” 

"And you distrust my ability?” 

"Somewhat. ” 

"You are worse than Harry. He always tells 
me what he wants done.” 

"Does he? Sometimes he pays you in advance 
for your trouble — like this,” he replied, bending 
over and kissing her on the tip end of her nose, 
in a most undignified manner. 


54 


A Modern Love Story 


"Wayland! How dare you!’‘ she cried and ris- 
ing from her chair in such haste that she over- 
threw the frail little table at her side, she faced 
him pale and stern 

"I was only doing my best to imitate your 
brother Harry," he replied meekly. "I have seen 
him kiss you on the tip end of your nose at least 
a dozen times." 

The absurdity of the whole situation flashed 
upon her, and her anger fled, in spite of her de- 
termination that it should not. 

"You have no right to treat me in this way!" 
she remonstrated to keep up her dignity. A 
strange hysterical desire. to laugh was taking pos- 
session of her. And yet — she felt that she would 
rather die than laugh! The offense was serious 
and she must treat it as such. She was not a 
child! And perhaps he was engaged to Miss 
Newmarket this very minute ! And yet — there 
was a strange uplifting sensation about her heart 
and she knew that he was not, just as well as if 
he had told her so fifty times! 

"Permit me!" he said, picking up the little 
table and placing it in its proper position. 

’ Three — six, how many brushes did you have? 


The Courtship 


55 


Did this vase belong on the table or on the shelf? 
You should not be so abrupt in your movements. 
It brings disaster to your surroundings. This 
china cup has lost a handle. All your fault, 
Esther! All your fault!” 

She could not help smiling at the charge. 
When she smiled he grew serious. 

‘‘Sit down, Esther, and let us talk awhile. 1 
have always heard that women had a great many 
queer notions. One of the queerest it seems to 
me, is this idea of turning a lover into a brother. 
According to the natural law of progression, 
lovers evolve into husbands — not into brothers. 
That would be a most unnatural development, 
from the higher to the lower. Seriously, Esther, 
do you really want me to love you less?” 

“That is a hard way to put it. I prize your 
friendship. And besides — now, Wayland! just 
listen and be sensible! It would be much wiser 
for you to marry Miss Newmarket! Just think 
of all you could do, if you were rich!” 

‘‘Is that your advice, Esther — to marry for 
money? I thought you had a higher idea of love 
than that!” 

“Miss Newmarket is certainly lovable. I am 
advising you to love her.” 


56 


A Modern Love Story 


"Which shows that you know nothing of the 
nature of love, to think it can be moved about from 
one person to another like that. When I get ready 
to move my affections I’ll place them on a good 
housekeeper — according to your former advice. 
As to Miss Newmarket — to begin with, I have 
never seen her. ' 

"Wayland!" 

"Actual fact! Miss Newmarket is in Germany 
studying music. It is Miss Ethel who is at home, 
and with whom I have been practicing duets. 
She is a school-girl of sixteen with a most re- 
markable voice. They were getting up an enter- 
tainment for the Mission School and asked me to 
help — so of course I did. Miss Ethel, if she 
carries out her present plans, will be in school 
five or six years 3'et. At the end of that time she 
will know no more about housekeeping than you 
do. As 3^011 say I must marr3^ a housekeeper, I 
don’t see but that it will have to be — the one we 
mentioned before.” 

"If you married an heiress, she would not need 
to be a housekeeper." 

"Then it is a question of money, is it? Esther, 
if I were worth a million dollars, would you 
marry me?” 


The Courtship 


57 


"Don’t, Wayland! It is not a fair question." 

"I think it is. I want an answer. If I were 
worth a million dollars, and asked you to marry 
me, would you say yes? You and I ought to be 
capable of telling the truth.” 

"It is not a fair question, but I will answer it. 
No one really knows just what she would do un* 
der changed circumstances, because we change 
more or less with circumstances. If you were 
worth a million dollars, while it removed some 
difficulties, it would add others. The weight of 
my obligation to you would be increased and I 
should feel less free, less my own, than if I mar- 
ried a poorer man. If you were worth a million 
dollars, I should still say no." 

"But if you had the million dollars, how would 
it be then ?" 

She did not answer. 

"I suppose I would have no chance at all," he 
continued a little bitterly. "It would be all Italy 
and art.” 

She was still silent. He got up, walked to the 
piano and struck a few chords. 

"Think I’ll have to send up a tuner. A flat, is 
too flat. Come and play for me. Oh, I will be 


58 


A Modern Love Story 


on my good behavior,” he added as she hesitated. 
“I am your lover, not your brother. I merely 
wished to show you that there was a difference. 
True lovers do not make a practice of offering 
unwelcome kisses. Pve a great mind, Esther, I 
really have — to vow that I’ll never kiss you again 
until you ask me to! Just to punish you! And 
if you never ask me, and I marry, I vow I’ll marry 
Miss Rattle-Bang — so I will!” 

She went to the piano. “You haven’t told me 
yet what that work was you had for me to do,” 
she remarked. 

“Perhaps there is no use in telling you.” 

' There may be. Anything reasonable I will 
do.” 

“My task is most reasonable, Esther, it is only 
this — to love me, to love me well enough to be 
willing to share with me the trials and the sun- 
shine of life.” 

Must it be told! It merely illustrates the 
contrariness of the human heart. For one swift 
moment she felt an almost uncontrollable impulse 
to lay her hand in his and tell him that she 
would walk through life at his side. The next 
moment came a revulsion of feeling. It was the 


The Courtship 


59 


struggle of a proud woman for independence. She 
turned upon him almost fiercely. “Why do you 
persecute me, Wayland? Have I not already 
answered you?” 

“Not satisfactorily,’’ he replied calmly, turn- 
ing over the music, searching for the piece he 
wanted. She began playing from a book which 
stood open upon the piano. 

“Was it this you wished to sing?” she asked 
after a moment or two. 

“No; page twenty-one in the folio,” he an- 
swered. 

The remainder of their conversation was equally 
prosaic. Their singing did not prove to be a suc- 
cess. When he left her, Esther tried to go on 
with her work but her hand had lost its cunning. 
It would tremble in spite of her best efforts to 
control it. At length she picked up her brushes 
and put aside her paints. She might as well have 
it out with herself now as any other time! 

She went up to her room, closed and bolted the 
door, and sat down by the window to meditate. 
Was it possible that she loved him? That she 
would soon be as Jennie was — ready to fall at his 
feet and worship? Her whole life bounded by his 


6o 


A Modern Love Story 


will? Her happiness in his control? No, no! It 
could not be! She must not be so weak. She had 
decided 5'ears ago that it would be better not to 
marry. She had planned her life accordingly. 
Art was better than marriage. And yet — mar- 
riage was not always a failure! If ever a man 
was worth marrying, Wayland was that man ! But 
if she married there was so much to give up, so 
many risks to take! And she went all over the 
ground again, and proved to herself for the for- 
tieth time in the last few weeks, that it was wiser 
not to marry ! 


CHAPTER III. 


THE DECISION. 

“What greater thing is there for two human souls, than to 
feel that they are joined for life — to strengthen each other in all 
labor, to rest on each other in all sorrow, to minister to each 
other in all pain, to be one with each other in silent unspeak- 
able memories at the moment of the last parting?” 

George Eliot. 

The days passed very quietly and grew into 
weeks. But the old frank intercourse was over. 
He was polite and courteous when they met, but 
he never asked a favor of her. Either the church 
organist or Miss Rattle-Bang played all of his 
accompaniments. Ruby was still away and the 
house seemed very lonely to Esther. She fell into 
the way of thinking of life as a somewhat dreary, 
never ending task. Her class seemed less inter- 
esting, her art more unsatisfactory. 

Was life worth living? This question — which 
seldom occurs to happy people — was often in her 

61 


62 


A Moder?i Love S^tory 


mind. She found it difficult to paint as steadily 
as usual, and what she did was often so unsatis- 
factory that it must be done over again. One 
afternoon she found her work more troublesome 
than usual. Was it because she was conscious 
that Wayland was in his study and might cross 
the hall and come in at any moment? He had 
not criticised her picture for a month at least. 
It was time that he did. 

I 

At last! She heard his footsteps in the hall — 
the door opened — it was Wayland! 

"Excuse me! I do not wish to disturb you, 
but Helen said I would find the last magazine on 
the piano. Yes; here it is. I thought I would 
glance over that article you mentioned on my 
way down in the cars. " 

He was gone! She could hardly realize it at 
first, and her disappointment was keen. There 
he was going down the street ! Tears of vexation 
filled her eyes as she watched him, and then she 
grew angry at herself to think there were tears. 
What folly. What weak, silly, creatures women 
were — and she was no better than the rest! She, 
a woman of some age and some sense — at least 
so she had considered herself — in love ! She 


The Decision 


63 


might as well acknowledge it — to herself. She 
was not likely to have an immediate opportunity 
of acknowledging it to anyone else! She smiled 
grimly at the thought. 

He had avoided her — except in the presence of 
others — ever since, for the second time, she had 
accused him of persecuting her. And yet — she 
could not doubt his love.- Almost daily he gave 
her some evidence of that. A bunch of roses on 
her easel, a sheet of music on the piano, a new 
book which she had mentioned, and a dozen other 
trifles of like import, proved conclusively that he 
had not forgotten her. She felt surrounded by 
his love — it filled the atmosphere. And yet — he 
avoided her! But could she blame him? She 
could not. She felt obliged to acknowledge to 
herself that her conduct had been rather trying. 
And he as usual had been very good and patient. 

And this was to be the end of it all! She was 
to give up art and go and get herself married 
just like any other woman! It was humiliating! 

It certainly was ! She had expected more of 
herself. To tell the exact truth, she had felt her- 
self a little superior to the average woman who 
married. And now — she dared deny it to herself 


64 


A Modern Love Story 


no longer. She loved him! She was fast getting 
to the point where she could not live without 
him! That is, live happily without him. She 
had never acknowledged it to herself before, but 
those tears which came against her will proved 
the case against her. She could deceive herself 
no longer. Had she deceived herself? What- 
ever she had done in the past the truth must be 
faced now. It would change all her life — it was 
not reasonable or wise! And yet — when had she 
been so happy as at this moment, in acknowledg- 
ing her love and giving it a place in her heart? 
She threw aside her paints and brushes. She 
longed for action. The house seemed too small 
to hold herself and her thoughts. She would go 
out and walk under the free blue sky. 

Another week passed. It had been a hard week 
for Esther. Once or twice she had tried to con- 
vince herself that she did not love Wayland, but 
with poor success. And he? She wondered if 
he knew? She wondered how soon she would be- 
tray her weakness. She even caught herself won- 
dering if he really meant to make her ask for a 
kiss — just to punish her as he said. She would 
never do it, she resolved with a proud little 


The Decision 


6s 


shake of her head — and then wondered if she 
would be able to keep her resolve. Wayland 
was so good and true and noble and patient! If 
she was weak and silly, and foolish — and very 
weak and foolish she felt — there was one comfort 
about it! Wayland was better worth loving than 
the most of men! Of that she was positive. 

Late one evening she was sitting at the piano 
playing a mournful melody. The family had gone 
to bed and she was alone. Wayland had not 
come home. Suddenly she heard his footsteps 
on the marble pavement. He was coming up the 
outside steps — would he see the light? Would 
he come in? And if he did? — she closed the 
piano with trembling hands. She could not play 
to-night. She did not wish him to ask her. Would 
he come? He was removing his hat and over- 
coat in the hall. He must come. A moment 
later he entered, the room. She turned toward 
him. Their eyes met in one long, earnest look. 

“Esther !” 

“Wayland !“ 

No other words were needed. She was in his 
arms and he was raining kisses on her face. 

“Mine at last, Esther! Mine at last!” 


66 


A Modern Love Story 


“But I thought you weren’t going to kiss me 
until I asked you — just to punish me,” she said, 
withdrawing herself from his arms. 

“I never said it! I only said I was a good 
mind to make such a vow! If I had, you would 
let me marry you without a kiss, you proud little 
witch you ! I knew you too well to really make 
any such rash vow as that!” 

And Esther wondered all to herself whether he 
was right or not. She had fallen so far from her 
former idea of herself that she could not say into 
what depths of abjectness love might not have 
carried her. Perhaps she might even have asked 
for a kiss! Dreadful thought! 


CHAPTER IV. 

SETTING THE DAY. 


“What is justice? — To give every man his own.” 

Aristotle. 

“It is only by labor that thought can be made healthy, and 
only by thought that labor can be made happy; and the two 
cannot be separated with impunity.” Ruskin. 

“Wayland, if you were free to do exactly as 
you pleased, what would you do?” 

‘T would marry you.” 

“Do be sensible — just for a change! You are 
certainly becoming a man of but one idea — and 
you used to have several!” 

“Thank you for the compliment!” 

“What would you do with your life if you were 
possessed of an income which relieved you from 
the necessity of ‘making a living’ as the expres- 
sion goes. What would you be? Minister, 
author, musician, lawyer, doctor — what? Would 
you make your life different from what it is, if 
67 


68 


A Modern Love Story 


your financial outlook was different — that is what 
I am trying to get at.” 

‘‘If I had an assured income I would preach 
to the poor instead of to the rich.” 

‘‘But the rich have souls.” 

‘‘I know — but the rich have a thousand oppor- 
tunities where the poor have but one or none.” 

‘‘Do you really mean all that? Let me finish 
for you; therefore, God is unjust. Is not that 
the jogical conclusion to your statement?” 

‘‘Not at all, Esther, not at all! We are far 
too ready to throw responsibility which belongs 
to us, upon God. It is man who is unjust to his 
fellow man. God has provided enough for all, 
but we have been bad children and have not di- 
vided his gifts properly. I met with an illustra- 
tion the other day which was rather striking. A 
father placed six fine red apples upon the table 
for his sons to divide among themselves. Num- 
ber one, the oldest,, largest and strongest — after 
the father was gone — stepped forward and took 
three of the apples which he called his share. 
Number two and Number three each came forward 
and took one, which they considered their right- 
ful share — as it would have been if the whole had 


Setting the Day 


69 


been equally divided. This left one apple for 
Number four, Number five and Number six. 
Number four fears to take all of the last apple 
although by equal division it would be his just 
share. He takes three-quarters of it, leaving 
one quarter for Number five and Number six to 
divide between them. Leaving out the question 
of heredity, was the father to blame because some 
of his children were greedy and unmindful of the 
rights of others? Was it his fault that the oldest 
and strongest seized upon half of what belonged 
to the whole? Or that the first four boys took 
possession of twenty-three twenty-fourths of the 
apples leaving but one twenty-fourth for their 
two younger, weaker brothers?” 

“Leaving heredity out of the question, the 
father was not to blame for the selfishness of his 
sons. Perhaps it would have been wiser to have 
made the division himself and given to each boy 
one apple.” 

“But then, don't you see, he would have lost 
his opportunity for finding out the character of 
his children. He might never have dreamed of 
what selfish conduct his oldest son was capable. 
It is best that he should know, in order that he 


70 A Modern Love Story 

may not entrust too much power to the un- 
worthy. ’’ 

“That argument will not hold. God is supposed 
to know all things without experimenting.” 

“Very true. We being finite jt is impossible 
for us to find an illustration that really fits the 
infinite. The earth is our inheritance which God 
has given us. He has left it with us to divide 
it. Had he seen fit to portion it out to each in- 
dividual a vast opportunity for the development 
of character would have been lost.” 

“Number one, if generous, would have taken 
but one apple!” 

“If merely just he would have taken but one. 
But Numbers five and six have no right to charge 
God with injustice. God’s opportunity, the great- 
est opportunity of all, the opportunity that counts 
for both worlds, is open to all. He who seeks 
to perfect his character will find as many oppor- 
tunities, if he be poor, as he would find if he were 
rich. Therefore, God is just. But as I have 
heard you say, the roads which lead to the hon- 
ors which the world confers are closed to the 
very poor. It was not so in this country thirty 
years ago, nor even twenty years ago ; but it is 


Setting the Day 


71 


so now. Therefore man is unjust. He divides 
the gifts of God unequally and unjustly.” 

“When will mankind learn that justice is the 
first rule by which character is measured ! That 
without justice as a foundation human merit is 
naught !” 

“Human merit is usually a minus quantity. 
When the old world found the new, it proceeded 
to parcel it out among the nations, regardless of 
the rights of the possessor, if the possessor hap- 
pened to be weak. So with God’s gifts to man 
which the earth has hidden in all ages. The 
coal, the gold, the silver, the iron, which God 
placed in the earth for the use of all men, is taken 
possession of by a few, who use it for their in- 
dividual and personal benefit. God is not re- 
sponsible for this misuse of the gifts he has be- 
stowed upon his children. The selfish and greedy 
who have taken possession of what did not and 
could not belong to them alone, are responsible. 
God has given us enough to make us all com- 
fortable. I believe this is true for all nations; 
it is certainly true for the United States. Sta- 
tistics prove it. ” 

“Then so much the greater shame to us that 


72 


A Modern Love Story 


poverty still lingers within our borders. Are you 
sure, Wayland, that there is enough to make us 
all comfortable? I have so often seen the con- 
trary stated.” 

“I am sure. If we divide the annual income 
of the United States which our workers earn, by 
the number of inhabitants it contains, we find 
that each person within our borders, is entitled 
to a yearly income of a little more than two hun- 
dred dollars. No one need starve on that!” 

“But two hundred dollars will not support a 
family in comfort!” 

“Two hundred dollars multiplied by the num- 
ber of members in a family will keep that family 
from suffering. A family of five would be en- 
titled to an income of over a thousand dollars. 
No family need starve on that! It does not rep- 
resent luxury, but it does represent comfort. 
Comfort for all is certainly more desirable than 
luxury for some at the expense of starvation for 
others. At least we would be sure to think so, if 
we had to take our chances on being one of those 
to starve. Government should be instituted for 
the greatest good to the greatest number. Half 
of the boys should not be permitted to take 
charge of five-sixths of all the apples.” 


Setting the Day 


73 


“Then there is an income of two hundred dol- 
lars for each one — whether that one earns it or 
not? Is that what you mean?” 

“Yes." 

“But do you believe that an equal division 
would be a just division?" 

“Certainly not! I would give the most to him 
who produces the most. I would not reward the 
idler as I would the toiler. I do not think that 
would be just. I believe in equal opportunities 
but I also believe in the right of the man to do 
what he chooses with his opportunities." 

“People are so different, and their needs are so 
different, and their services are of such unequal 
value, that equal division never seems just to 
me. I should say give the most to him who does 
the most of the hardest or most difficult work. 
But perhaps when we have studied the subject 
more we will think differently." 

“The workers of the United States produce 
yearly enough to furnish an income of more than 
two hundred dollars, for each individual within 
its borders. That includes the baby in the cra- 
dle and the foreign pauper just shipped to our 
shores. Our population increases rapidly, but 


74 


A Modem Love Story 


our wealth and our annual income increases more 
rapidly. As a nation we are growing richer 
every year. If this accumulating wealth could 
be more equally distributed it would be an ad- 
vantage to us. But unfortunately our surplus 
wealth is piling up in the hands of a few while 
the poor are growing poorer and more helpless, 
more dependent upon the rich. Dependence is 
but another name for slavery. The man who is 
dependent upon the will of another man for his 
means of subsistence is not far from a slave. 
Just think of it, Esther. One thousand nine 
hundred and ninety-nine two-thousandth of our 
people, possess only three-sevenths — less than 
one-half — of our nation’s wealth. Or, looking at 
it in another way, one family out of every hun- 
dred families, owns as much property as the other 
ninety-nine families, which complete the hun- 
dred. Think of the power possessed by one man 
who owns as much property as ninety-nine other 
men! You see the one man has but one family 
to support; perhaps only five or six people are 
dependent upon him, while the ninety-nine have 
ninety nine families! Very likely five or six hun- 
dred people must be supported upon the same 


Setting the Day 


75 


income that the rich man uses for five or six. 
The children of the ninety-nine can scarcely hope 
to obtain the same education and moral training 
to fit them for the duties of life, that the chil- 
dren of the one obtain without difficulty." 

"And thus classes arise!" 

"Yes; I am sorry to say that in this boasted 
republic of ours the population is rapidly divid- 
ing — as it is already divided in older countries — 
into the classes and the masses. The classes 
living in luxury and comparative idleness, the 
masses doing the work of the nation, and living 
— as they can. A millionaire is more powerful 
than many kings used to be." 

"But not in the same way!" 

"Not precisely — but just think! It is said that 
we have at least one man among us, whose in- 
come is a million dollars per month! He could 
pay the salary of the queen of England four times 
over. She receives but three millions a year. 
Still that makes her quite a wealthy woman." 

"It certainly does! But he is four times as 
wealthy, and she could hire sixty presidents and 
pay as high a salary as we do! And yet there 
are people who think our president receives too 
much !” 


76 A Moder 7 i Love Story 

“Not while we have men among us whose in- 
come is sufficient to pay the salary of 240 presi- 
dents. I do not believe that any man has a right 
to an income of more than $50,000 a year.” 

“It is difficult to set a limit. “ 

“I think the limit should be less but I am pos- 
itive that, it should not be more. The man who 
possesses an income of a million a month or even 
of a million per year is a dangerous citizen for a 
republic. He has too much power. Did you ever 
stop to think, Esther, how much hard labor a 
million dollars represents? I saw it figured out 
recently, and the results were startling ! It would 
take a day laborer working 300 days a year at one 
dollar a day, 3,333 years to earn a million dol- 
lars. Think of it! Over three thousand years 
to earn a million dollars by daily labor and yet 
we have men among us who hold possession of 
two hundred million or more! And these large 
fortunes are increasing rapidly. ’’ 

"It would take farmers, laborers, mechanics 
and clerks a long time to earn a million dollars!" 

“It certainly would. Then just think of 'these 
points. A million dollars will buy more than a 
million bushels of wheat. It takes the farmer 


Setting the Day 


77 


who raises five hundred bushels a year, two 
thousand years to raise a million bushels. It is 
also stated that a million dollars would buy all 
the stores and the most of the houses in any or- 
dinary village of two thousand inhabitants. That 
makes a bad showing for the political liberty 
and social equality of the people who are de- 
pendent upon the millionaire for their bread and 
butter. To make one millionaire 999 other men 
must do without their share of the accumulated 
wealth of the nation. They must live upon their 
daily labor without any capital to fall back upon 
.^and if daily labor is denied them— then what?” 

“Why Wayland, are you turning socialise?” 

“Not quite. I am neither socialist, anarchist, 
nor communist, yet I see great danger in allow- 
ing these immense fortunes to accumulate.” 

“How would you prevent it?” 

“There are many ways; if the people, the 
whole people, could only be roused to a sense of 
the danger and would take it in hand, this evil 
could certainly be remedied. I think some of 
the labor organizations do see the danger. I wish 
I was better informed on economic subjects.” 

“Have you read that article on immigration in 
the last magazine?” 


78 


A Modern Love Story 


"Yes; there is another danger! The foreigner 
is becoming omnipresent. He can’t read English 
and he won’t learn, yet we let him vote. There 
was a Polish settlement near the farm where I 
was visiting last summer. Those Poles wouldn’t 
even send their children to school — and yet the 
men were voters! I have no objection to for- 
eigners, and am glad to see them come — we were 
all foreigners once — but I don’t think they have 
any business voting until they can read English, 
and know what a republican form of government 
means. That is another danger ahead! The ship 
of state is sailing into troublous waters. I wish 
I knew enough to help guide her — but I don’t! 
You asked me what I would do with my life if I 
could. I will tell you. If I had an income which 
would leave me free to use my time as I wished, 
I would spend it in studying economic questions, 
and in personal work in the slums. I would visit 
European cities and study the people and their 
needs. I would preach to the poor and live among 
them. Sometimes I feel guilty to be what I am, 
the pastor of a fashionable church. And yet the 
way was opened before me — it seemed God’s 
will! What do you think, Esther?" 


Setting the Day 


79 


“I think it has been — for the past. The future 
may be different. But really, I do not see the 
connection between studying economic questions 
and working in the slums.” 

"The poor we are to have always with us, but 
that simply means that some people will be less 
fortunate than others, and will be in need of help 
and sympathy, in cases of illness, death, or acci- 
dent. Dire poverty such as we see abroad is un- 
necessary. We are still ignorant of many of the 
principles which should govern organized society. 
If we were all wiser, we could guide the ship of 
state better. Therefore I would study economic 
questions, and have everybody else study them 
too, if I could, that we may abolish poverty. In 
this prosperous country, poverty should be an un- 
known quantity, or at least a diminishing one, 
instead of a constantly increasing menace. But 
we have discussed the affairs of the nation long 
enough. Let us talk of something of personal 
interest. When shall it be?” 

“What?” 

"The happiest day of our lives — our wedding 
day?” 

"If it is to be the happiest day of our lives. 


8o 


A Modern Love Story 


let us put it off as long as possible that we may 
enjoy the pleasures of anticipation. But wedding 
days are not happy; they are all weariness and 
bustle and confusion and more weariness. I fear, 
Wayland, that we are happier now than we ever 
will be again. ” 

“So you believe in that old saying: 

'Always to court and never to wed, 

Is the happiest life that ever was led,' 

do you?” 

“I believe there is a great deal of truth in it, 
don’t you?” 

“It is often true where people are mismatched. 
But it will not be true with us, and need not be 
true with other sensible people who marry wisely. 
What have I done, Esther, that you should form 
so poor an opinion of me, that you should dis- 
trust me so?” 

“It is not you whom I distrust, Wayland, it is 
myself. You must be a very brave man or you 
would never have the courage to take charge of 
me with all my whims and fancies! For you 
know, if I am not happy you will not be.” 

“I know.” 

“And you will expect so much of me, and if 
I fail—” 


Setting the Day 


8i 


"And you will expect so much of me! And if 
I fail — why then, we will be two failures, and 
will just have to pick up our life and go on with 
it, the very best we can. We must help each 
other, Esther, so that we shall not fail. I know 
that I am not perfect; and I suspect that you are 
not — quite. But I do think that you are one of 
the very best women that ever graced the earth, 
and I think that I have lived long enough, and 
have known enough good women, to be something 
of a judge. If you loved me, Esther, as I love 
you — ” 

"That is not it, Wayland," she interrupted. 
"It is because I love you so well! Our ideals 
are high, and it is so hard to live the ideal life, 
the life that we picture in our visions and day- 
dreams. I cannot bear that you should be disap 
pointed in me. I cannot bear to be disappointed 
in you. I would rather die, this moment, Way- 
land, than to live to find you less worthy than I 
believe you to be. I would rather die,” she re- 
peated with an earnestness that startled him. 

"Which means, I suppose" he replied, after a 
moment, with that sudden change from the se- 
rious to the absurd which was characteristic of 


82 


A Modern Love Story 


him, “that after I have wasted away to a skel- 
eton on a diet of cold potatoes and sour bread 
three times a day for six weeks, if T should take 
occasion to mention some morning that a change 
of fare might be advisable, I would come home 
at night and find you had committed suicide from 
grief, because you had married a man who had 
fallen below your ideal! I’ll never mention it, 
Esther! I promise solemnly that I won’t. Pll 
go to the restaurant and get a good dinner first! 
Pll agree to eat cold potatoes and salt just as 
long as you do! I feel perfectly safe in making 
that agreement, for I know you like good food 
properly prepared just as well as I do. And as 
for the house — if we have one — I expect to spoil 
one suit of clothes a week sitting down on paints 
and brushes and oils that will be found reposing 
in unexpected places. I expect to find combs 
and brushes on the parlor centre table, and rib- 
bons and laces among my sermons— should be 
disappointed if I didn’t. Now, when I enter the 
matrimonial state with such lofty expectations, 
in regard to housekeeping matters, don’t you 
think it would be rather difficult to really disap- 
point me? I am moderately good tempered, and 


Getting the Day 


83 


hope to be able to pull up a carpet, or take down 
a stove — in case of necessity — without throwing 
c stick of wood at my wife’s head. With such 
qualifications for a model husband — although I 
may not be the exact ideal of your youthful im- 
agination — don’t you think you can afford to 
marry me, before my hair all turns gray waiting? 
It is three months now since you surrendered 
your heart. How much longer must I wait for 
your hand? Fathers and mothers, brothers and 
sisters, uncles and aunts and cousins even to the 
fortieth, have all given their consent. What is 
there to wait for? Set the time, Esther, I beg 
of you.” 

She did not answer. 

"Esther, do you repent?" he asked gravely. 
"Do you want your freedom? Is independence 
and your art dearer to you than I am?” 

"O Wayland, it isn’t that! It is only that I 
am afraid — afraid that we will not be as happy as 
we expect to be.” 

"Perfect love casteth out fear.” 

"Perfect love increaseth fear — fear of disap- 
pointing those we love.” 

"I verily believe that theosophy has something 


84 


A Modern Love Story 


to do with your reluctance — what is it, Esther? 
Let us be frank with each other. Does theosophy 
oppose marriage?” 

‘‘Not at all ! What queer ideas people do get! 
And yet — that is not so strange when I come to 
think of it! Because those who give their entire 
lives to research in theosophy must be free from 
all ties which bind them to the world. A prom- 
ise must never be broken; to break it is a crime 
which will not go unpunished. Those who unite 
their lives are bound by bonds which to the the- 
osophist are more sacred than they are to those 
who forget that the spiritual is far more real than 
the physical.” 

‘‘Then those who seek what you call the highest 
in theosophy, are not to marry, is that it?” 

“Those who leave the world and seek to lead 
the spiritual life, are not to marry. But there 
are only a few of those in each generation.” 

■‘Have you an ambition to be one of them?” 

“I? no indeed! I am not half good enough. 
My inner senses are not sufficiently developed. 
And besides I am of the earth, earthy. I love 
my art and my friends. I am not spiritual enough 
to make a real theosophist. I am only a student, 
a learner.” 


Setting the Day 


85 


“Perhaps you know what you mean by ‘inner 
senses’ ; I don’t. But if you are not good enough 
I would like to know who is! Are you acquainted 
with any real theosophists?’’’ 

“1 think not. We are all learners. Why are 
you so prejudiced, Wayland? There is nothing 
bad in theosophy." 

“Not positively bad, perhaps, but some of its 
teachings are certainly absurd." 

‘’Perhaps the reason you think so, is because 
you do not understand." 

"But it is so absurd I have no desire to under- 
stand. " 

“That is the exact trouble, you are prejudiced.” 

“Have I not reason to be when I feel that it is 
keeping you from me?" 

“Theosophy is not keeping me from you. It 
is your attitude towards it that separates us." 

"What is the difference when the result is the 
same?" 

"That is not a wise question.” 

“I acknowledge it, but — what am I to do? 
Must I embrace theosophy before you will marry 
me? It is a most vexatious situation. Here are 
two people who love each other, but dare not 


86 


A Modern Love Story 


marry on account of — theosophy! I wish you had 
never heard of the stuff!” 

“Wayland, you are wrong!” 

“Very likely; I am discouraged and out of 
temper. People are apt to be wrong under such 
circumstances.” 

“Don’t you see how foolish it would be for us 
to marry, when we can scarcely discuss this sub- 
ject without quarreling?” 

“I think it would be the wisest thing in the 
world for us to marry immediately. Then it 
would be in order to close the discussion with a 
kiss, while now you object to that method of 
ending an argument. Do you mean to say, Es- 
ther, that we have got to wait until I turn the- 
osophist or you cease to be one?” 

“I shall not cease to be what you call a the- 
osophist. ” 

‘'And I am equally certain that I shall not be- 
come a theosophist. " 

"I have not asked you to.” 

“Very true; so thciOnly thing we can do is to 
compromise the matter. Esther, will you marry 
me in June? I will agree — 

“O Wayland! not in June!” 


Setting the Day 


87 


“In June I said and June I meant. My summer 
vacation begins then and we could have a few 
weeks all to ourselves, and take a long delight- 
ful trip on land and sea. You could sketch — if 
you felt industrious; and I could lounge, for I 
know I shall not have a particle of industry left 
by that time. I have not an oversupply now. 
Ruby is invited to spend the summer with her 
aunt and wants to go with her cousin as soon as 
school closes — so she will be pleasantly provided 
for. Now, Esther, don’t try to think up objec- 
tions, but just think how delightful it will be, 
to climb mountains together in June." 

"June certainly is a delightful month in which 
to travel, but — " 

“But what?” 

“Wayland, I must have complete liberty of 
conscience. ” 

“Which means — ?” 

“That it will be better for us not to discuss 
points, on which there is no hope of agreement. 
You must leave me to lead the religious life I 
prefer, and I will leave you to do the same. I 
will not ask you to study theosophy; you need 
not a§k me to attend revival meetings. I will 


88 


A Modern Love Story 


not talk theosophy to you except in answer to 
your questions.” 

“And I must not express my religious views to 
you unless in answer to yours — is that it?" 

“No; you have always been in the habit of 
expressing your views, and 1 have — listened. I 
have not found it necessary to tell you, quite 
every time that I did not agree with you. What 
I mean is, that you must not expect me to think 
as you do, must not feel disappointed if I always 
remain what I am now — ” 

“The dearest woman in the world,” he inter- 
rupted. 

“ — a student of theosophy,” she continued. 

“We are both seeking the highest, but some- 
times I cannot be satisfied with what satisfies 
you. You are more fully developed in certain 
directions than I am; therefore, although truth 
is one and the same, we cannot see her 
alike. We each obtain different views, and neither 
should claim to be right, to the extent of declar- 
ing the other wrong. On moral and ethical ques- 
tions we nearly always agree. Those we can dis- 
cuss all we please, but theosophy seems to be a 
point of danger; that we must avoid!” 


Setting the Day 89 

“I have half a mind to be jealous! I believe 
you love theosophy better than you do me!” 

"That would be absurd.” 

“Thank you for the compliment.” 

"Oh, but my exclamation referred to the first half 
of the sentence. ” 

“Then you don^t love me better than you do 
theosophy? I shall surely be jealous!” 

‘T love you both better than you deserve!” 

"When shall it be, Esther?” 

"What?” 

Our wedding day.” 

"I thought you said it was to be in June,” she 
replied demurely. 


CHAPTER V. 


THEIR WEDDING TRIP. 

“The subject of economy mixes itself with morals, inasmuch 
as it is a peremptory point of virtue that a man’s independence 
be secured." Emerson. 

“Are you tired, Esther?" 

“A little.” 

“This hill is steep." 

“Steep! I should say it was! It is a mount- 
ain! What do people mean by calling a per- 
pendicular collection of rocks and trees half a 
mile high, with the smallest possible amount of 
path circulating up and down it — a hill! The 
scenery is beautiful, and I shall put that bend 
of the river we saw below, into the very next pict- 
ure I paint. But what a climb we have had!” 

“We must be at least half an hour ahead of all 
our companions, and I verily believe that spot of 
grass at the right must be the lunching place they 
described to us. Let us sit down and rest and 
90 


Their Wedding Trip 


91 


enjoy the scenery until they come. Do you sup- 
pose they suspect us?” 

“Not in the least — unless it is that young 
couple. She regards me with a suspicious glance 
occasionally. I haven’t anything unusual about 
me; my traveling suit is certainly very plain and 
unobtrusive. I don’t see why they should sus- 
pect us, unless it is because you will persist in 
carrying my fan and parasol when there is not 
the least necessity for it.” 

“I will desist if you think the act arouses sus- 
picion. Sometimes it is as difficult to hide hap 
piness as it is to hide misery. The world would 
rather laugh at us than to weep with us.” 

“But I don’t intend that the world shall do 
either !” 

“Esther, 1 want you to confess.” 

“Confess?” 

“Yes. ” 

“Confess what?” 

“Confession they say, is good for the soul. 
When will you ever have a better opportunity? 
I want you to confess every art and wile which 
you used, to lure poor unsuspecting me into the 
dangerous pitfall of matrimony — every last wile 
you must confess.” 


92 


A Modern Love Story 


“Wayland!" reproachfully. 

“Will you confess?” 

“I never lured you! And I haven’t a wile to 
confess! You lured poor unsuspecting me." 

‘If you’ll confess, I will.” 

“I’ve nothing to confess!” 

“O yes you have! There is a world of things I 
want to know about.” 

“Did anyone ever remark that men were not 
curious or inquisitive? Do you see with what 
a peculiar effect the sunlight falls on the leaves 
of that tree fifty feet below us? And how it 
dances on the water beyond? You should be 
observing the beauties of nature!” 

“I can do that after the others come, but I 
want to talk to my wife now — she looks very 
pretty when she blushes — as she does when I 
call her wife. Esther, I want to know exactly 
when you surrendered. When did you give up 
that you would have to marry me?” 

“But you are confessing — I am not.” 

“You must help me. Do you know what I was 
going to do, that night, if you hadn’t fallen into 
my arms?” 

“Wayland!” 


Their Wedding Trip 


93 


"Never mind. We won’t stop to quarrel about 
that. I was almost at my wit’s end. I had tried 
Miss Newmarket and jealousy and it didn’t work 
at all. I don’t believe there is a jealous hair in 
your head. But I wish you would tell me just 
how you felt about that episode. Honestly, Es- 
ther, wouldn’t you have been a little sorry if I 
had married Miss Newmarket? Just a little?" 

"Do you really expect me to answer that ques- 
tion?" 

"Yes. ’’ 

"It would have been hard for me in some ways 
— hard to see another woman take Jennie’s place. 
But really and truly, Wayland, I did think it 
was the most sensible thing you could do! I sup- 
posed, of course, that it was Miss Newmarket — 
not that child. She is of suitable age, and a lady 
in every sense of the word. And then — her money 
would have made life so much easier for you. 
Still, I did think you were very flighty, and 
changeable-minded after you had been vowing 
to love me all my life, to go and get yourself 
engaged to some one else in just a few weeks, 
I am willing to acknowledge that I hadn’t much 
of an opinion of men just then!" 


94 


A Modern Love Story 


“I suppose you waited until you had a better 
opinion of mankind in general, before you con- 
cluded to surrender yourself to the tender mer- 
cies of one.” 

"When I found that you were true and faith- 
ful I did have a better opinion of mankind in 
general. ” 

“I verily believe you married me just to rescue 
me from the clutches of Miss Rattle-Bang — not 
that I was in the slightest danger,” he added in 
a bantering tone. 

"I never for a moment imagined that you would 
marry Miss Rattle-Bang.” 

“Because she was engaged more than a year 
ago to that man from Tennessee who is so weighty 
— not mentally but physically. Miss Rattle-Bang 
herself is a woman of weight — great weight. But 
then she is a good housekeeper.” 

“I did not know she was engaged.” 

“I thought not. I am to perform the ceremony 
a week or two after we get home. I was asked 
about a year ago. The circumstances were a little 
peculiar.” 

“O, Wayland! what a cheat you are! To try 
to make me think you were interested in her when 


Their Weddmg Trip 


95 


you knew all the time she was engaged ! And 
then — how did you ever manage to get that re- 
port started that you were engaged to Miss New- 
market?” 

“All is fair in love and war, they say. That 
report was started for Harry’s benefit. Nobody 
else believed it — that knew us. But it didn’t 
have the desired effect, so I had to try something 
else. You were very hard-hearted, Esther.” 

“You have not told me yet what you were go- 
ing to do that night.” 

“Haven’t I? I had been at considerable trouble 
to concoct a scheme from which I hoped much. 
Sometimes you know, we fail to appreciate a 
thing until we are about to lose it. You had 
persistently shown great lack of appreciation of 
my society, so I decided to deprive you of it for 
a time. I had a call from a church out West in 
my pocket. I was going to show you the letter 
and ask your advice about it. If I thought from 
the looks of your face that you would tell me to 
stay, I intended asking you to decide for me. 
Otherwise I should have left the city for a few 
weeks and have left you in suspense. But — as 
you fell into my arms — without being asked — 


96 A Modern Love Story 

why do you look at me so reproachfully? Isn’t 
it true? If you think it would relieve your mind 
any to pull my hair, be sure you pull the gray 
ones! As you fell into my arms of your own ac- 
cord — it was not necessary. Now really and truly, 
was it not of your own accord? Was not that 
the exact place where you wanted to be? What 
a proud woman you are, Esther! When you are 
thoroughly beaten why don’t you give up? I 
would like to know, I would really like to know, 
just when you did acknowledge to yourself that 
you would have to surrender? When was it, 
Esther?” 

“Can’t you guess?" 

“No.” 

“Do you remember that afternoon when you 
came into the parlor for a book?” 

“Yes; but I hardly said a word to you!” 

“That was exactly it! If you had stopped and 
talked, and asked me to marry you, I presume 
I would have said no. But when you went out 
without hardly a word, and when I saw 3^ou 
walking down the street away from me — it came 
over me all at once! Suppose you should stay 
away and treat me like that all the rest of my 


Their Wedding Trip 


97 


life — only an occasional word when we happened 
to meet by accident. Somehow, I found out just 
then and there, that I couldn’t very well live 
without you." 

“And I never knew it for more than a week! 
A whole week’s happiness lost right out of our 
lives!” 

“No; it was better as it was — because I had 
to think it all out again and again. I had found 
out what it was to love — but it only made me 
more afraid. I am almost afraid even yet! If 
either of us should prove less worthy than the 
other thinks us — ” 

"You unpractical darling! Stop theorizing and 
live. We will both do the very best we can to 
make each other happy, and when our tastes are 
similar and we are united by a love that is strong 
unto death, nothing can disturb the harmony of 
our lives.” 

"Are you sure, Wayland, very sure?” 

“Yes, darling, I am sure.” 

“I have a confession to make — sometime. But 
it is not of an art or a wile to lure you. Really, 
Wayland, there is some satisfaction to me in the 
thought that if our marriage should prove to 


gS A Modern Love Story 

be a failure, the most of the responsibility rests 
with you.” 

' I accept it. Now for your confession. I shall 
remember the past and be very hard-hearted.” 

She hesitated. 

"What have I ever done, Esther, that you think 
.me such a bear?” 

“It isn’t that — but I don’t know quite how to 
begin. Wayland, if you could do just what you 
pleased for the next two years, what would you 
please to do?” 

He did not reply at once, and she continued: 

“And then, if — afterwards, you could do as 
you pleased with your whole life, what would 
you do? I mean if there was no question of 
money to disturb you, if we had enough money 
so that you wouldn’t have to think about that. 
If you could do as you pleased, what would you 
do?” 

“Dreaming again, Esther? Well, I suppose 
a wedding tour is the proper time to dream — if 
ever. If I could do just what I pleased, I would 
do as I told you a few weeks ago W'hen you asked 
me that question. I would visit all the great 
cities and examine into the condi-tion of the poor. 


Their Wedding Trip 


99 


I would give my time to the study of the social 
problem in the new and old world, until I felt 
as if I understood it. And then, I would work 
in the slums. I do feel sometimes as if my call 
was to the poor instead of to the rich. If God 
should put an opportunity in my way that would 
permit me to devote myself wholly to the cause 
of the poor and ignorant and degraded, I would 
gladly accept it. I would like to help lift the 
lowest to a higher level. I wonder sometimes 
if I have not made a mistake in accepting work 
among the rich and well to-do. And yet — that 
seemed to be what God meant for me. . . But 

have I a right to think it was meant because it 
was made easy? Esther, you have probed the 
sore spot in my life.” 

He rose to his feet and began walking up and 
down the grassy plot before her as was his way 
when strongly moved. 

"I have tried to follow what I thought was 
God’s will — and yet sometimes I have doubted. 
The easy way is not always the right way. The 
rich have souls but they also have opportunities 
which are denied the poor. What do you think, 
Esther, is my call to the poor?” 


lOO 


A Modern Love Story 


"I believe it is, Way! and. I have thought so 
before, but I never felt so sure of it as at this 
moment. " 

“You gave that as a reason why I should marry 
Miss Newmarket, I believe. But that was a mis- 
take. God does not lead us in that way. It was 
my privilege and m}^ duty, to love the highest 
and best which came within my reach. Your 
influence is uplifting to me and always has been. 
I am a better man because I have known you.” 

“And I a better woman because I have known 
you, Wayland.” 

“Thank God for that, Esther! May it always 
be true that we shall help each other to lead 
belter, nobler lives. Because our love is ennobling 
I had a right to you if I could win you. Esther, 
if the path opens before us which leads to such 
work, even though it wind through the vale of 
poverty, I will go, and you will go with me, will 
you not? Together we will serve both God and 
humanity. ” 

She rose and placed her hands in his. 

“Yes; together, Wayland. The path is open.. 
It has opened in such a way that it leaves me my 
art, and gives you your life’s work. Sit down again 


Their Wedding Trip 


lOI 


and let me tell you. You are so restless. Do you 
remember Uncle Samuel? He visited us last 
summer; that queer little old man who is so very 
rich. He thinks I look like Cousin Kale, his 
daughter, who died a month before her wedding 
day. He told mother that when I married, he 
would give me what he promised Kate. If I 
married you he would give you as much as he 
did me. And so he has sent us for a wedding 
present — what do you suppose? We kept it a 
secret in the family so I could surprise you, and 
sp it wouldn’t get into the papers and be talked 
about so much. He has given us property yield- 
ing an annual income amounting to more than 
twice as much as your present salary. Just think 
of it, Wayland. We can travel the two years, and 
while you study poverty I will study painting. 
Then we can get us a cozy little home, not too 
expensive, and you can have some hundreds a 
year for your charities and slum work, and do 
what you want to with your time. Oh, Wayland! 
This, I think, is the happiest moment of my life, 
when I can give you what you want — the chance 
to choose your life’s work.' 

“Surely God has been very good to us,’’ he an- 


102 


A Modern Love Story 


swered after a moment^s silence in a voice broken 
with emotion. “He has given me my heart’s de- 
sire. He has given me more than I dared to ask 
for — the woman I love and the work for which I 
have longed.” 


CHAPTER VI. 


THREE YEARS AFTER. 

“Strong men have strong convictions, and one man with a 
belief is greater than a thousand that have only interests.” 

James A. Garfield, 

“Esther, do you remember what day this is?" 

“Our anniversary. Did you think I would 
forget?" 

“Is marriage a failure?" 

“Not always. This is the third year you have 
asked that question.” 

“And the third time you have given that an- 
swer. " 

“Isn’t the answer satisfactory?" 

“It lacks enthusiasm.” 

“Oh ! you are fishing for compliments, are you? 
I gave you so many on your birthday that I fear 
my supply has run short.” 

“Honestly, Esther, I would like to know if you 
103 


104 ^ Modern Love Story 

are satisfied," he said in a serious tone to which 
she replied as lightly as before. 

"As if I should tell you if I were not! Satis- 
fied! Who could be other than satisfied such a 
perfect day as this! I hope we will have just 
such weather for our trip. I wish we could have 
started to-day. It is pleasanter than it was three 
years ago. Do you suppose everybody in the 
cars, and at the hotel, recognized us as a newly 
married couple that da}^? It was a happy day 
in spite of my forebodings to the contrary ; every 
thing went off very well — including the rice they 
put in our umbrella. You remember we never 
opened our umbrella until on our way home. Then 
we were out on deck watching a storm come up, 
and you opened that umbrella and scattered a 
pound of rice all over the Captain and the pas- 
sengers. That betrayed us — I don’t believe they 
had suspected us before." 

"Three happy years they have been to me," he 
said slowly. "Two years of play, and one of work. 
I do feel as if I was doing some good in the 
world — helping people out of the ditch, as you 
express it. By the way, I must read you that 
last article of mine before I send it away. There 


Three Years After 105 

are some things in it you will not agree to — I 
wonder if we will ever think alike?” 

“Never! Leave the article out where I can 
find it, and perhaps I will have time to read it 
this afternoon, while you are gone; and then we 
will talk it over on our trip." 

“Esther, why don’t you write? I would like to 
have the pleasure of criticising an article of 
yours. ” 

“Would you indeed? Painting and housekeep- 
ing are all I am able to manage. You may do 
the writing, and I will do the criticising. Your 
article is on the land question, I believe.” 

“Yes; I have come to some new conclusions — 
that is new to me — and I want to see how they 
will strike you.” 

“The land question certainly is one of the great 
questions of the day.” 

“It surely is; when we stop to consider that 
we have men among us who are worth $200,000,- 
000; and that a man worth that amount could 
buy about 8,000,000 acres of land at the average 
valuation, it is enough to startle us out of our 
indifference. If such a man as that should in- 
vest his fortune in farms, he would have the sub- 


io6 A Modern Love Story 

sistence, almost the existence of 100,000 families 
under his control. There is not much chance for 
either social equality or political liberty when 
the bread and butter of 500,000 people can be 
cut short at the will of one man.” 

“What is the remedy?” 

"That is what we are all trying to find. The 
article discusses that point.” 

"Are you more of a socialist than you were, 
Wayland?” 

"I hardly know — but I think not. Socialism 
would not solve all the old problems, while it 
would introduce many new ones There are some 
good points in all the ‘isms,* in communism as 
well as nationalism, in anarchism as well as so- 
cialism. You need not shake your head! There 
are some good points in philosophical anarchism! 
If we were all perfectly honest and good, and 
noble and true, it would work very well.” 

"But while the human race remains as faulty 
as it is at present, and is likely to be for some 
centuries to come, we must have law to protect 
the weak from the strong. The absence of law 
would leave us to the evils of violence, disorder 
— anarchy. ” 


Three Years After 


107 


“Anarchism is simply individualism carried to 
an extreme, while socialism goes to the opposite 
extreme. In order to be a happy nation we must 
find the happy medium.” 

“Nationalism as presented in ‘Looking Back- 
ward,^ is very attractive. The only trouble is, 
it will not work until we are all a great deal 
better than we are now. I don’t believe. Way- 
land, that there is much hope for us until we are 
better. ” 

“There are more good people in the world now 
than ever before.” 

“That is undoubtedly true. Yet there are plenty 
of bad people — we all know that! You w'ould 
not be spending your life in the slums if there 
were no bad people — there would be no slums.” 

“There are good people in the slums, just as 
there are bad people out of them. If everybody 
was just, the world would run smoother. It is 
this eternal ‘grab-all-you-can-get’ sentiment that 
works the mischief.” 

“There! you are beginning to come around to 
my way of thinking — that justice is the foundation 
upon which all else rests. When the nation as 
a whole is just, and every individual of which it 


io8 A Modern Love Story 

is composed, is also just — there will be no more 
trouble!” 

“But when will that be? How are we to bring 
it about?” 

“By educating. ” 

“And legislating. ” 

“By anything that will help to raise the stand- 
ard of morality. Just laws will help, while unjust 
laws hinder. An unjust law tends to lower the 
respect of the people for all law. Better no laws 
than bad laws. ” 

“That is what the anarchists say. Look out, 
Esther, or you will be talking anarchism. ” 

“No; I want laws, but 1 want good laws. What 
I mean to say, is, that even good laws cannot do 
everything. We must have good people behind 
them ; therefore, education is more important 
than legislation. Your inheritance taxes, and 
graduated income taxes, and government control 
of mines and means of transportation, may serve 
a good purpose in keeping down immense fortunes 
so their owners cannot do quite so much harm, 
but they will not abolish poverty.” 

“What is there that will abolish poverty?” 

“I believe that universal moral education will 


TJirce Years After 


109 

do it, if it is ever done. I see no other way. That 
seems to me the first and most important step to 
take. ” 

"But while you are educating the children what 
will become of the parents? What will become 
of the country?” 

"I would educate the parents. They are often 
in greater need of education than the children." 

"Education is all right but it is so slow. Leg- 
islation will reach some wrongs quicker.” 

“But you can’t legislate justice into a man’s 
soul and make it the key to his life. Unjust 
men make unjust laws. Think of the vicious 
legislation, financial and otherwise that has been 
inflicted upon us during the past thirty 57ears. 
We must elevate the individual if we would 
elevate the nation. Therefore personal work like 
yours, does more good than all our pretty theo- 
ries. ” 

"Have you read those Looking Forwards, Back- 
wards, Further Backwards, etc., that I brought 
home?” 

"Yes; I have read them all. None are equal 
to Bellamy’s, although the one describing the 
Chinese invasion was quite good. It shows the 


I lO 


A Modern Love Story 


weakness of a nation which fails to prepare for 
war, and makes plain the fact that no nation can 
get very far above the lowest. While there is 
one warlike people in the world, all other nations 
must be able to defend themselves. If we wish 
to rise as a nation we must help our brother out 
of the ditch. When we are all out of the ditch 
we will be able to take another step forward. If 
we would rise, we must be willing to serve like 
the traveler from Altruria. ” 

“The world is moving, Esther. It is moving 
in the right direction, and it is moving fast. 
There are evils to be remedied and much hard 
fighting to be done, and when we look upon the 
dark side only, it is very dark. Nevertheless, 
the public opinion of to day requires a higher 
standard of morality for both men and women 
than was ever before required. That is a move- 
ment in the right direction which promises every- 
thing. We are rising. ” 

“You always were an optimist, Wayland.” 

“And you too, Esther. You cannot deny it. 
That is one point on which we agree. Let us 
be thankful that there is one point.” 

“That sounds as if we usually disagreed.” 


Three Years After 


111 


“We do — on the most important subject of all, 
the subject of religion.” 

“I fear that we shall have to continue to agree 
to disagree on that subject.” 

“Is your belief no nearer mine than it was 
three years ago^” 

“I hardly know. I feel now as I felt then — 
while I was in my senses — that 1 never could 
have filled the position of wife to the pastor of 
the Fifteenth, acceptably. Creeds are so narrow 
and the universe is so wide. I cannot think as 
you do, Wayland. I never shall. It would be 
going backward. It seems to me like this; my 
God is greater than yours. And yet — I am in 
sympathy with you because I know we are both 
seeking the highest, and that your best thought 
and prayer reach up towards the same God I am 
seeking. Some people’s prayers are so selfish, 
so childish, that I can have no more sympathy 
with them, than with those creatures who fall 
down and worship sticks and stones. And yet — 
in another sense I sympathize with all who are 
reaching toward what is above and beyond them. 
The worshiper of sticks and stones is doing that 
as truly as you or I. We are all seeking for the 


1 12 


A Mod€7-7i Love Story 


highest and best which we are able to compre- 
hend. I know, Wayland, that you regret that 
our religious experience is so different. Perhaps 
you feel that I have no religious experience, be- 
cause you have not succeeded in ‘converting’ me 
— as the expression goes. We shall have to agree 
to disagree. Only — don’t worry! It is all right. 
There is nothing to worry about.”' 

“I do not worry, Esther, in the sense which 
you mean. You have had your freedom have you 
not, perfect freedom of thought and action? At 
least I have meant that you should. It is a ten- 
der point this that we have brought up. I often 
wonder what is my duty . . . and have won- 

dered how you felt ... I am glad that you have 
told me what you have ... I pray God that 
some day we may see alike. Until then — I will 
be patient. I will not persecute you, Esther, or 
strive to force my convictions on you against 
your will, of that I am resolved. I trust that it 
will all come right in God's own time.” 

“It will, Wayland, so 3^ou see you don’t need 
to worry ”. Then she added in a lighter tone, 
“I never could quite make up my mind who pre- 
sented us with that rice — whether it was Helen 
or Harry, or your sister Clara — do you know?” 


Three Years After 


113 


“I am no wiser than you. But, Esther, you are 
not looking well. What is the trouble? Are you 
worrying about anything?” 

“Yes; the rays of sunlight, striking the clouds 
over the right spur of that mountain to the left 
of my picture, are worrying me. I can’t get the 
right effect. I lay awake an hour last night 
studying on that, while you slept as if you had 
never known a trouble!” 

"You look so worn out. You are pale, and the 
rings are almost ready to fall off of your fingers, 
you have grown so thin. What is it?’ 

"I am tired. I have been painting too steadily. 
I really do need a rest. I think our lake trip will 
do me good. Perhaps I am pining of neglect. I 
don’t think you have kissed me more than thirteen 
times to-day, and it is our anniversary too.” 

She put her hand up to ward off a kiss which 
he was near enough to offer; but he made no 
such attempt to her surprise. She glanced at him 
sharply. 

"Esther, I wish you would tell me whether you 
are satisfied,” he said very seriously, but she 
would not be serious. 

"Satisfied! What an absurd question! It 


1 14 A Moder7i Love Story 

shows your lack of knowledge of human nature! 
Did you ever in all your life hear of a mortal 
woman who was satisfied? I never did. What 
time did you say our train starts to-morrow?” 

“You are a proud woman, Esther/’ he said a 
little sadly. “I don’t know as I shall ever under- 
stand you — quite. The train starts at four in the 
afternoon. I cannot very well be back much be- 
lore that, but I suppose you will be all ready. 
Have the valise packed and your wraps on — there 
isn’t much time between trains. Which reminds 
me that it is time that I was going or I shall lose 
this one — and that would be unfortunate. My 
satchel is in the hall you said. I believe I am 
all ready, when I get my hat.” He had been 
gathering up his belongings while he talked. 
Now he came and stood by her chair until she 
looked up in his face. 

"Esther, do you love me?” he asked gravely. 

"Wayland, do you need to ask?” she answered. 

He bent down and kissed her, then turned and 
left the room. 


CHAPTER VII. 


"it is better that we should part.” 

“Of all the agonies in life, that which is most poignant and 
harrowing, that which for the time annihilates reason, and 
leaves our whole organization one lacerated, mangled heart, is 
the conviction that we have been deceived where we placed all 
the trust of love.” Bulwer Lytton. 

The next day at twenty minutes to four, Way- 
land ran up the steps and hurried into the front 
hall calling, “Esther! Esther! The hack is at the 
door and we will have to hurry. Where are you, 
Esther?” 

He received no reply. He looked into the par- 
lor but there was no one there. The library was 
empty, also the room which she called her studio, 
and which he called his study. What could it 
mean? 

“Esther! Esther!” he called again. Nobody 
answered. At the foot of the stairs, as he was 
about to go up to their room he met the middle- 

115 


ii6 A Modern Love Story 

aged woman who acted as housekeeper of their 
small domain. 

“Where is my wife?” he asked hastily, “and 
the valise — I don’t see that either.” 

“She went home yesterday afternoon.” 

“ Went home! When did she say she would 
come back?” 

“She didn’t sa}^ — maybe she didn’t know. She 
went in a great hurry and seemed excited. She 
didn’t pack no valise either, except the one she 
took with her.” 

“What did she say?” 

“She didn’t say much of anything. She hurried 
so. She said she had a letter and you would find 
a note in the usual place.” 

“A note in the usual place. All right. Some- 
thing unexpected must have occurred. Where is 
Ruby?” 

"She has gone to her Aunt Clara’s. She went 
last night after she found her Aunt Esther was 
gone. She seemed a good deal excited too, and 
acted as if she didn’t know what she had best 
do. ” 

“Strange! Something extraordinary must have 
happened. I’ll see,” and he hastened up-stairs, 


"It is Better that We should Part" 117 

while the housekeeper went back to the kitchen 
to look after the cake she was baking, as she was 
cook also. 

The usual place. That was in a book which 
was left on the bible stand, or in a favorite copy 
of Lucile wherever that might be found. He 
searched the books on the bible stand; there was 
not a note in either of them. Then it must be 
in Lucile. Yes, here was Lucile, dropped care- 
lessly on one corner of the bureau — and here was 
the note. He hastily opened it and read : 

“Dear Papa: — When I came home from school 
I found Aunt Esther gone, so I thought I would 
go over and stay with Aunt Clara to night and 
then go to Cousin Lena’s to-morrow without com- 
ing back here. It will be less trouble. I haven’t 
quite money enough to last, so please send me 
some before you go away, and let me know when 
to come home. I shall pack the little black 
trunk and send it to the depot to-night. In great 
haste, 

“Your loving daughter. Ruby.” 

“Where was Esther’s note? He held the book 
up by the covers and shook it violently. Strange 
that it could not be found! She must have for- 


ii8 A Modern Love Story 

gotten and put it in some other book. He picked 
the books up one after another and shook them. 
No notes came flying out. Where could it be? 
His anxiety and his impatience both were in- 
creasing. What could have happened? Whatever 
it was, it had either spoiled or at least delayed 
their trip. Where could she possibly have hid- 
den that note? He opened bureau drawers and 
looked behind pictures. Some of the pictures 
seemed to be gone. Here was her work-basket 
containing some fancy-work, and — yes, there was 
certainly a note! It fell to the floor as he lifted 
the light filmy fabric on one corner of which she 
had painted a rose while he idly sat and watched 
her deft fingers. He picked the envelope up from 
the floor, tore it open and began reading. This 
was not from Esther — it was to Esther! What 
could it mean? He turned the paper over to see 
if she had scribbled a few lines to him anywhere 
on it, but he found nothing of that kind. His 
eye caught his own name several times on the 
blurred pages. It could be nothing secret, or 
she would not have left it here where he would 
be sure to find it. Perhaps its contents would 
explain the mystery of her action. Should he 


*' It is Better that IVe should Part" iig 

read it? Yes; they usually read each other’s let- 
ters. Why should he not read this? Was it a 
premonition of its strange contents that made 
him hesitate, and caused a cold chill to pass 
over his body as he made the decision. He won- 
dered about it in after years. 

He stepped to the v.dndow and raised the cur- 
tain. As he read his face grew stern and pale. 
Who had dared write such lies as this to Esther? 
What could be their object? Was it to revenge 
themselves for some fancied slight? Or was it 
part of a plot to obtain blackmail? But it was 
too absurd to have any hope of success! And 
yet — as he read on he saw that it was cunningly 
devised, by some one who had considerable 
knowledge of his movements; the writer had 
concocted a reasonable-sounding story which, if 
true, would prove him to be a hypocrite, a de- 
ceiver, a thorough-going scoundrel. He smiled 
as he finished reading the letter and tossed it 
carelessly into an open box. He must find Es- 
ther’s note. He took up the work-basket and 
searched its contents. There was nothing there. 
He opened every box, lifted and shook every 
book; looked in the bureau drawers again, and 


120 


A Modern Love Story 


behind every picture. He even picked up the 
rugs and shook them, and shook out the folds 
in the lace window curtains. No, it was not 
there. Where could she have put it? How stu- 
pid of him! Probably she had left it downstairs 
in the studio. He hurried downstairs and be- 
gan the search there. He went through the same 
process, but found nothing. He looked in the 
parlor, in the hall, everywhere. He went to the 
kitchen and interrogated the housekeeper again, 
but with unsatisfactory results. Passing the 
parlor window he noticed the waiting hackman 
playing with his whip and watching the door. 
He went out and paid him and told him that 
his services would not be required. 

He came back into the house and stood in the 
hall a few moments at a loss what to do next. 
He was struggling with a terrible fear. Could it 
be possible that Esther believed what was in that 
letter! His face darkened at the thought. No, 
no! it was not possible! She knew him too well. 
She loved and trusted him — but did she love 
him? She had been a faithful wife, faithful to 
every duty, but — since the day after they were 
married, that day when they had knelt together 


It is Better that We should Part' 


I2I 


to thank God for his goodness to them, she had 
never said in so many words, “Wayland, I love 
you. ” He often asked her, but she never answered. 
She always put the question aside in some play- 
ful manner as she did yesterday, or if he pressed 
it upon her, she would say as she did then : "Do 
you need to ask, Wayland? ” And the answer with 
its accompanying look — which surely bespoke 
love — had satisfied him, almost — but not quite! 

Was it possible that she had ceased to love 
him? That she was living on and on, regretting 
her marriage, yet trying to do her duty, trying 
to conceal her lack of love, so that he might not 
know — so that he might be happy? And yet — 
it could not be! Such a life would be torture to 
a sensitive woman like Esther. She would find 
it unendurable. Then came a sudden revulsion 
of feeling. She loved him! Why should he doubt 
it? What reason had she ever given him to dis- 
trust her love? None! none at all. He was fool- 
ish to torture himself with these doubts! It 
would be no more possible for her to believe evil 
of him, than it would for him to believe evil of 
her. People might write him a thousand letters 
against Esther, and it would not cause him to 


122 


A Modern Love Story 


doubt her for one moment. The note she had 
left was mislaid. There was no use in wasting 
any more time looking for it. He would go to 
her mother’s and see what had happened. Per- 
haps some one was ill. But then — she might be 
on her way back and might come in at any mo- 
ment. It would be awkward to go there and find 
that she had probably reached home a few min- 
utes after he left the house. It would be as well 
to wait. If she needed him she would send Harry 
after him. 

He walked slowly and thoughtfully up the 
stairs. Perhaps he could think of some new place 
to look for the note. As he stood gazing medi- 
tatively around the room, his eyes fell upon the 
open box in which he had thrown the letter. He 
took it up and examined the envelope. Strange! 
it was dated four days back. What could that 
mean? It must have been in Esther’s possession 
two or three days at least. She had never men- 
tioned it! It was certainly strange. Why had 
she not said something about it? A scene at the 
breakfast-table one morning flashed upon him. 
She had displayed an unusual interest as to his 
whereabouts the day before. She had questioned 


“// is Better that We should Part" 123 

him until he had laughed at her and told her if she 
would furnish note-book and pencil he would jot 
down the number of places he visited and the 
exact number of minutes he stayed at each place. 
Her face flushed a little and she changed the 
subject. He opened the letter and began reading 
it more attentively. Here wag something he had 
not noticed before written at the bottom of the 
page. 

"If you want to know more about it, meet me 
at the corner of 15th and M — street, to-morrow 
at three o’clock." 

To-morrow at three o’clock! He looked at the 
date. That must have been Tuesday afternoon. 
It was Thursday now. Another scene flashed 
into his memory. Tuesday night as he was walk- 
ing home he met a friend on the street. In the 
course of conversation the friend mentioned hav- 
ing met Esther and another lady on 15th street. 
She had believed the vile story and had gone to 
obtain further evidence of her husband’s guilt ! 
He felt as if he had received a blow, a heavy 
blow. He sank into the nearest chair. Esther 
believed him a villain I He sat as one dazed for 
a long time. He would have trusted her to the 
ends of the earth, but she — ! 


124 


A Moderfi Love Story 


His thoughts became disconnected. He felt as 
if he was losing possession of himself. It could 
not be true! There must be some mistake! What 
was that white edge peeping out from beneath the 
table-cover? Surely it was a note? He grasped 
it eagerl3^ Yes; it was Esther’s handwriting. 
He opened it and read. It contained only these 
words. 

"Look in the work basket." 

He crumpled the paper in his fingers, cast it 
on the floor and put his foot upon it. She be- 
lieved it! She had placed that letter there for 
him to find! That was her note — her last word 
to him. She had gone — what did she take with 
her? He opened the closet door. The valise was 
gone. Several of her dresses were gone. Why 
had he not noticed before? The room itself had 
an empty look. She had taken down hei favor- 
ite pictures. Slowly the meaning of it all dawned 
upon him! She had gone! She had left his home 
— forever. A feeling of rage took possession of 
him — such a feeling as he had not known for 
years; such a feeling as proves us akin to the 
lower animals. It w^as such a feeling as makes 
murderers of men who are in the habit of yield- 


“// IS Better that We should Part"' 125 

ing to their brute instincts. He felt as if he 
wished to strike something, or to tear something 
in pieces, and the utter folly and childishness of 
the act was all that prevented him from dashing 
the work basket to the floor and trampling upon 
its contents. He was in no mood to reason. He 
could only feel. The world seemed tottering be- 
neath him. The very foundations were breaking 
loose. He hardly knew whether he was a man 
or some wild beast of the forest torn with con- 
tending passions. 

It was a warm June day. The air in the room 
seemed suffocating. Mechanically he went to 
the window and threw it half way up, then leaned 
against the casing and breathed heavily. A look- 
er-on would have supposed him to be suffering 
physical pain. Many minutes passed. They seemed 
like hours to him. The clock in the hall below 
struck five. He had not heard it strike four. He 
took out his watch and looked at it to see if he 
had heard aright. Next he took down a writing 
desk which they both used. He would write to 
her — for the last time! 

He wrote like a madman — as he was. His 
pen moved swiftly over the paper. He did not 
stop to select phrases or to choose soft words. 


126 


A Modern Love Story 


“You never loved me or you would not have 
believed it! I say you never loved me! You do 
not know what love is. If you did you would not 
have believed that lie; you would not have de- 
serted your husband without giving him a hear- 
ing. Because you never loved me, it is better 
that we should part. You have done wisely 
in putting miles between us. I have suffered 
enough at your hands. I hope never to see you 
again. To think that you would not only go 
yourself, but would take another woman with you 
to help you publish your husband’s guilt! To 
think that you would take another’s word rather 
than mine! Oh Esther! I loved j^ou so! I 
thought you loved me! How I have been de- 
ceived in you ! I thought you spotless and pure, 
but if there had been no capability of evil in you, 
you could never have believed such things of me. 
If one had come to me with such a tale of you 
I would have laughed him to scorn! I could have 
believed that the sun was black, that the moon 
had turned to blood, or that the earth had ceased 
to move, easier than I could have believed evil 
of Esther, my wife. And now — you have fallen 
so low in my estimation I could almost — nay, I 


“// is Better that We should Part'" 127 

will not write it! Even now I could not believe 
evil of you. My God! Esther, what were you 
thinking of to go there and talk to that creature? 
Did you think me the worst hypocrite on the 
face of the earth? You never loved mel If it 
were in my heart to hate anything, I could almosf 
hate you! — you have deceived me so!” 

He folded, sealed, directed, and stamped the 
letter and placed it in his pocket. Then he took 
his hat and started out to mail it, making calcu- 
lations as he walked. If he put it in the mail 
box it was so late that it would not be collected 
that night. There was a postal station a few 
blocks away. He would take it to that. Then 
it would reach her by the first mail in the morn 
ing at about nine o’clock — if she was still at her 
mother’s. Perhaps she was not. If she cared to 
avoid him she would go somewhere else. He 
walked to the station and mailed the letter. 

What next? Should he go home? He had no 
home! There was an empty house and a supper- 
table perhaps — but it was no home! Esther was 
gone; even Ruby was gone. Poor Ruby! If she 
knew, how she would dread to meet him! He 
could not go back there. Besides, he felt bet- 


128 


A Modern Love Story 


ter out in the open air under the blue sky. God 
was left. He had almost forgotten that. God 
made the country! He would go there, out in 
the woods where there was peace and quiet so 
he could think. He was tired of men and wo- 
men. He was tired of the noise and confusion 
of the city. He turned his footsteps toward a 
distant railway station and boarded the first out- 
going train. When the conductor asked for his 
ticket he handed him a silver dollar. 

“As far as that will take me,” he said. 

The conductor, who had seen much of life made 
no comment but handed him a ticket and two 
cents in change, and went on. The passengers 
chattered like magpies. He watched them with 
idle curiosity. What else was there to do? His 
brain was on the point of refusing to act. Would 
they never reach his station? It did not occur to 
him that he could get off at any other. 

At last! He wondered what the place would 
look like. It was a very small country town sit- 
uated in a farming community. At the end of ten 
minutes he had left it far behind him, and a turn 
in the road and a small hill hid it completely 
from sight. The sun was near to setting. Houses 


It is Better that We should Part' 


129 


were scattered. It was milking time and the cows 
were wending their way homeward, sometimes 
driven by children or dogs, sometimes going of 
their own accord. Here was an orchard; and 
there, beyond a meadow, were tall trees. He 
would go there and rest under them. How calm 
and peaceful it all seemed. Even the rail fence 
which he jumped had a friendly look as if it did 
not intend to obstruct his passage. A squir- 
rel paused on the top rail of the next fence and 
chattered at him a moment, then leaped down 
and disappeared in the tall weeds. A bird flew 
up out of the long grass just ahead of his feet. 
He stopped and searched for its nest but did not 
find it. How cool and shady it looked in the 
woods! God made the country. Here ferns were 
growing at the edge of the woods by the side of 
a small running brook. Then there was a strip 
of tall bushes; every branch of them seemed to 
cling to the passer-by. Farther on there was a 
grassy plot. Fallen trees and stumps offered a 
choice of seats to the weary traveler, but he 
placed himself on the grass in preference to 
either. 

Three hours later he was still there. The sun 


130 A Modern Love Story 

had gone down and the stars had come out. As 
he sat there, slowly and silently his foolish rage 
passed away, and the peace of the universe filled 
his soul. He wondered at the fury which had 
possessed him a few hours before. He had dared 
to blame Esther, because she had not trusted 
him when appearances were against him. But 
how much better had he done? He had failed 
to trust her when appearances were against her! 
He would go and find her in the morning and 
explain everything to her — if it needed explain- 
ing. The longer he thought about it, now that 
his brain was clear, the surer he felt that there 
was some mistake. Esther loved him. Esther 
loved him! Here under the stars, alone with God 
and his own thoughts he could doubt no longer. 
If she loved him she trusted him. There must 
be some other explanation for the strange inci- 
dents which had occurred. 

He felt very weak and tired, not inclined to 
move. It would all come right in the morning! 
It was so peaceful and pleasant here he could not 
bear to get up and go back to the city — yet. He 
took his hat for a pillow and laid himself down 
on the long, soft grass, and looked up at the stars 


"It is Better that We should Part" 131 

through the leaves of the trees. It was such a 
grand universe, such a beautiful world! How 
Esther would enjoy this view of the heavens and 
the earth, with the soft moonlight falling through 
the leaves. If she could see it as he saw it now, 
she would want to paint that group of stately 
trees. They stood like proud sentinels, watching 
over the safety of the humble ferns growing at 
their feet, and the shimmering brook beyond. 
Thinking of Esther and her work he fell asleep 
and dreamed that she was painting the most mag- 
nificent picture he had ever looked upon — a moon- 
lit forest scene. He was awakened by soft drops 
of rain falling upon his upturned face. It was 
only a summer’s shower, but rain is usually wet. 
He sat up and tried to look about him but it was 
very dark. He could not for a moment, recall his 
whereabouts. He felt in his pockets for a match. 
He had none. The moon had hidden her face 
behind clouds. The shower was accompanied by 
slight gusts of wind. He rose and shook himself 
and wondered what time of night it was, and 
what he had better do. He felt chilled and stiff 
as if he might have taken a severe cold. 

The situation was decidedly unpleasant, for it 


132 


A M Oder 71 Love Story 


was so dark he would probably run against half 
the stumps and trees in the woods, trying to get 
out. However, it was only a shower and would 
soon be over. Possibly the moon might show 
her face again. Mother Earth was certainly a 
very capricious hostess. If only the clouds had 
not taken a notion to weep! The stars had been 
very friendly but the clouds had proven themselves 
most inhospitable to treat a man dependent upon 
them for shelter like this! Extending his arms 
he groped his way to a tree near by whose 
branches were so thickly covered with leaves, that 
scarcely a drop of rain reached him, except what 
was brought by the wind. Here he stood and 
shivered and meditated until the shower was 
past. Was it midnight, or three o’clock, or 
later still? He had no means of calculating, as 
it was too dark to consult his watch. As soon 
as it was light enough he would find his way out 
of the woods, take the main traveled road and 
walk until he came to a station and take the first 
train to the city. He was anxious to see Esther 
and find out what really was the trouble. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

A night’s adventures, tramp, robber, murderer 

WHICH? 

"Whence, and, oh heavens! Whither? 

Carlyle. 

"The threads our hands in blindness spin 
No self-determined plan weaves in; 

The shuttle of the unseen powers 
Works out a pattern not as ours.” 

Whittier. 

Suddenly, the memory of the letter he had 
written and mailed in his angriest moments, re- 
turned to him. The storm of passion which had 
swept over him, had so exhausted his brain, that 
memory refused to act in her usual methodical 
manner. This most important incident had 
slipped out of his thought for hours. What had 
he written in his madness? He scarcely knew. 

Esther was a proud woman. Would she ever 
forgive the cruel things he had put in that let- 
ter? He could almost see her grow pale as she 

133 


134 


A Modern Love Story 


read it. And then she would say: “If that is 
the way you could feel toward me, for even one 
moment, you are quite right. It is time that we 
should part.” There would be no angry words, 
and no tears — Esther was not given to tears' 
But a firm resolve which nothing could move. 
He must see her before that letter reached her. 

It was very dark but he dared not wait for 
light, lest it might be too late. He must catch 
the very first train that went to the city. He 
stumbled along, groping his way, running against 
stumps and falling over logs ; picking himself up 
again, and hurrying on, with the earnest hope 
that he was not penetrating deeper into the 
woods. At last he could see a fence, and an 
open field beyond. It was a rail fence with a pile 
of stones in the corner, but it was so dark that 
he had no idea of the nature of the ground on 
the other side. As he undertook to swing him- 
self over it, the top rail broke with his weight, 
and he slipped and fell head foremost, into some 
dark, slimy water. To say that he was surprised 
is a mild way of describing his bewildered men- 
tal condition. With some difficulty he climbed 
up the steep, slippery sides of the ditch into 


A Nighfs Adventures 


135 


which he had fallen, and felt of his head to see 
if it still remained with him. Next he tried his 
arms and legs to see if they were in proper work- 
ing condition, as judging from his sensations 
while falling he might be in several pieces scat- 
tered in various directions. All there but his 
hat! That had evidently stopped in some other 
place. He could see nothing of it; it was so 
dark he could scarcely see the outlines of the 
ditch. Oh, for a little light! What should he 
do? If he wandered hatless through the country, 
what would people think of him — when it was 
light enough so they could see him? What would 
Esther think, if she could look at him now. He 
smiled grimly at the thought and was thankful 
that Edison had not yet invented anything that 
would make that possible. He would try to get 
out of the woods before Edison made such an 
invention. For aught he knew, he might be ten 
miles from a place where he could buy a hat. 
And again it was doubtful whether he had money 
enough with him to buy one and pay his car-fare 
back to the city. His daily work brought him 
into contact with so many disreputable charac- 
ters that he seldom carried much money. That 


136 


A Modern Love Story 


hat must be found! He started to clamber into 
the ditch again, and when half way down the 
bank he felt his hat under his foot, it gave him 
the first pleasurable sensation he had experienced 
for many hours. He climbed out of the ditch in 
quite a happy mood — speaking comparatively. 

Without further accidents worth mentioning 
he succeeded in regaining the traveled road. 
Whether he had gone through the woods and 
come out on the other side, or whether he had 
come out near where he entered, it was impossi- 
ble for him to tell. He had found a road and he 
would follow it, it mattered little which wa3\ 
It must lead somewhere. He stepped into the 
wagon track and followed it as well as he could, 
but it was not growing lighter. On the contrary 
it looked very much as if there would be another 
shower. He progressed slowly, and after run- 
ning into the fence two or three times, learned to 
guide himself by the feeling of mother earth be- 
neath his feet. The road was hard ; the grass soft. 
The road meant comparative safety; the grass 
meant unexpected fence-corners and bumps and 
bruises. After he had walked what seemed to 
him like miles, a house standing near the road 


A Night's Adventures 


137 


loomed up before him. There were no lights in 
the house but he was getting so anxious as to 
liis whereabouts, that he fumbled his way to the 
gate, and went in and knocked on the door. 
There was no response. He knocked again, but 
with the same result. The third time he used all 
his strength in the endeavor to make himself 
heard. A light gleamed forth for an instant, 
through the windows, and he heard a door open 
and shut. A moment later the front door was 
cautiously opened a few inches. 

"What’s wanted?” was the query from a gruff 
voice. 

"I’d like to know where I am.” 

"You would, would you? Well, you are on 
my front door-step. That’s where you are! Drunk 
as a lord,” he muttered to himself, "and wet as 
a drownded rat. ” The farmer opened the door a 
little wider and holding the lamp he carried in 
his hand so that its light fell full upon the face 
and figure of the intruder, he asked, "What you 
here for, anyway, waking folks up this time of 
night? Where’d you come from?” 

"The city, and I want to get back there.” 

"Hem! don’t think anybody here will object. 


138 


A Modern Love Story 


do you? If you want to go to the city, what are 
you pounding my front door for, like it wa’n’t made 
of wood and liable to split. You look more as 
if you’d come out of a ditch, than out of any 
other place. If you’re goin’ to the city to-night, 
you better be joggin’ on.” 

“That is exactly what I want to do, if you’ll 
tell me the way to the nearest station.” 

“Straight ahead most likely. Which way was 
you agoin’ ?” 

“Don’t know." 

“Which way did you come from?” 

“If I knew that, I would be quite likely to know 
which way I was going. I am a stranger and it 
is dark.” 

“You might know, and again you mightn’t,” 
replied the farmer noncommittally. “It is dark; 
that’s so! You’re welcome to the barn if you’d 
like to sleep there. I don’t believe Miranda’d 
want you in the kitchen. You do look awful 
bad, that’s a fact.” 

“I fell into a ditch back here a few miles. 
The fact is I left the train at Somerville, and 
walked out until I came in sight of some woods. 
I went to sleep in the wogds and never woke up 


A N'ighfs Adventures 


139 


until it rained. Then I climbed a fence and fell 
into a ditch that I didn’t know was there.” 

The farmer chuckled. 

“That was my fence and my ditch, but it ain’t 
much more’n a quarter of a mile from here. 
You’ve been going right away from Somerville 
every step you took since you got out of them 
woods. YouMl have to turn right around and go 
back. ” 

“How far is it?” 

“Three mile and a half.” 

“And that is the nearest station?” 

“Yes; you see if you’d gone through the woods 
on the other side you wouldn’t a’ been^ much 
more’n two mile from town.” 

“How much would you charge to harness a 
horse and take me there?” 

“Don’t want the job. The old mare is lame, 
and the colt is skittish, an’ I ainT got owl’s eyes. 
There’s a younger man down to the next house 
— maybe he’d take you. He’d want three or four 
dollars though, this time o’ night and darker 
than Egypt.” 

“Perhaps I haven’t enough money with me. 
Hold the lamp so I can see.” He took out a 


140 


A Modern Love Story 


silver dollar, a fifty cent piece, and a few cents 
in small change. 

"No; tain’t enough,” said the farmer shaking 
his head. "You better take to the barn until 
morning. Miranda’s dreadful partikler about her 
kitchen. But maybe you’d look better after you’d 
washed. I might ask her an’ see what she’d say.” 

"Thank you ! You needn’t take the trouble. 
If you will tell me which way to turn, right or 
left, after I get out in the middle of the road 
standing with my back toward the gate. I’ll start 
on.” 

"Turn to the right, and after you’ve gone 
about a mile and a half you’ll come to four 
corners, an’ then you’re to turn to the right 
again. That’ll take you straight into Somerville, 
an’ there’ll be a light in the station so you won’t 
have to pound no more folks’s front doors down. 
An’ say, Somerville ain’t a very big place, but 
they’ve got a watchman there, an’ you better look 
out for him or he’ll run you in. He’s awful hard 
on a man that’s got a glass more’n he can carry.” 

"But I am not drunk!” 

"Of course not! of course not,” replied the 
farmer soothingly. "I hain’t said you was, have 


A Night's Adventures 141 

I? I was only givin’ you a friendly hint about 
that watchman. If you’d take my advice you’d 
take to the barn ’till daylight. I wouldn’t like 
to hear of you bein’ drownded in a ditch between 
here and Somerville” and the farmer closed the 
door and turned the key. 

Drunk! Judging by appearances was not so 
safe after all. Because a breaking fence rail had 
thrown him into a ditch, he was taken for a 
drunkard! Was it just that a man’s character 
should be judged by his clothes? Not even by 
their quality, but by their condition? Hadn’t 
a respectable man a right to fall into a ditch if 
he wanted to, without losing his reputation ? Just 
then his foot hit a sharp stone, which pierced 
through the thin leather of his shoe. As he 
walked, the sand of the roadway pressed into the 
crevice and enlarged it. By and by a pebble 
worked its way in, and soon caused his foot great 
pain. He bore it awhile, then sat down and took 
off his shoes and socks, put a sock in each shoe, 
tied the shoes together, broke a branch from a 
neighboring bush, swung it over his shoulder and 
started on. It seemed to him he must have walked 
at least five miles, and he had seen nothing of 


142 


A Modern Loi^e Story 


the corner 5^et! When the houses were far back 
from the road it was so dark that he could hardly 
see them. But here was a large building right 
on the road. Should he rout the inmates up and 
ask his way again? Perhaps in the darkness he 
had passed the corners and was walking away from 
Somerville instead of toward it. He sat down at 
the foot of a straw-stack and leaned against it to 
rest. He heard a rustling in the straw near by, 
and presently a man’s form emerged from the 
darkness. 

“Hello, pard ! Where’d you hail from?” 

“The city.” 

“Where you goin’?” 

“To the city. ” 

“So be I; but Pm goin’ to take daylight for 
it. ” 

“Do you know how far it is to Somerville?” 

“Never heard of the place.” 

“Pll have to inquire at that house.” 

“Tain’t a house. It’s a barn. Don’t you know 
a barn from a house? You ain’t in a hurry, be 
you?” 

“Yes.” 

“What’s up? Anything in particular? Friends 


A Nighf s Adventures 143 

on the road you’d like to avoid meeting or any- 
thing of that sort? If you want a good place to 
rest a day or two, where there ain't no danger of 
meetin^ anybody, maybe I might give you a 
pointer. ” 

"Thank you. I’m in a hurry to get to the city, 
so I think I’ll be going. Did you pass any corn- 
ers near here?" 

"Just a few rods ahead there’s four roads, a 
intersectin’ of each other, but there ain’t no store 
nor nothin’. ” 

Truly this was a night of adventures. Taken 
for a drunkard and then for a tramp! What next? 
A change in the weather he hoped. Instead of 
growing lighter, it actually seemed to be growing 
darker if that were possible. Here was the road 
turning to the right. That mile and a half had 
been the longest he ever traveled. Two miles 
of interminable darkness — and then? Hours of 
waiting for a train perhaps. Why had he not 
asked the farmer what time it was, and when a 
train would pass through Somerville? This road 
was rougher than the one he had left. The peb- 
bles hurt his feet. It was not so much traveled 
evidently, and that was strange. The nearer one 


144 


A Modern Love Siory 


approaches a town the better the roads are usually. 
Walking claimed all of his attention and he 
ceased to moralize. He stopped thinking of any- 
thing except the road he was traveling. To get 
to Somerville as quickly as possible, that was 
the one thing to do now. To that he bent all 
his energies. There would be a chance to rest 
and plan after that. But what did this mean? 
There was a turn in the road! Surely the farmer 
said it went straight into Somerville after that 
one turn! Inexplicable, but a fact! The road 
turned a square corner. He followed it a while 
longer. The wind died down. The clouds grew 
thinner, until for a single moment the moon was 
visible, and then again hid her face behind a 
thick veil. But what had become of the road? 
Here was a fence across it, and a gate, and a 
house! Queer road! To end in a house. He 
must be lost. He must have turned wrong some- 
where. The only thing to do was to find himself 
and start again. He went up to the door and 
knocked. There was no stir. He knocked again 
long and loud and then awaited results, but no 
results appeared. A third time he knocked but 
with no better success. The house was deserted. 


A Night's Adventures 


145 


After making this discovery he felt worse than 
before, but just then the moon peeped from be- 
hind a cloud for another moment, and gave him 
a partial view of his surroundings. He saw a 
house at a short distance, across what looked like 
a meadow. He would go there. On his way he 
kept a sharp lookout for fences and ditches. His 
feet hurt him so that he sat down on the grass 
and put on his shoes. When he got a little 
nearer, he saw that the house was a barn, but 
there was a house just beyond. To avoid climb- 
ing fences he would go around a little low build- 
ing which seemed to be fenced off by itself. Just 
as he passed this building, a shot rang out upon 
the air. It sounded perilously near. He stopped 
still, not knowing what to do, with every sense 
alert. Was it midnight robbery or murder? And 
had he come in time to rescue the victim? A 
man, with a gun in his hand, stepped out from be- 
hind a corn crib. 

"Waiting for me to get another shot at ye?" 
he asked, raising his gun as if about to shoot. 

"Hello there! What are you doing? Put down 
that gun.” 

"Well, if you ain’t the coolest, impudentest 


146 


A Modern Love Story 


chicken thief I ever see! Why didn^t you run?” 

"Put down that gun, I say! You handle it very 
awkwardly. You’ll be shooting yourself next as 
well as me." 

"Did I hit ye?" 

' No; but what are 5'ou thinking of, to shoot at a 
peaceable stranger trying to find the road in this 
heathenish country! How far is it from here 
to Somerville." 

"Farther’n you’ll get to-night, P m a thinkin’. " 

"What’s the matter with all your roads? I 
was on one they said would take me straight to 
Somerville, and the first I knew, it landed me in 
front of an empty house. The only civilized thing 
I could see was this barn over here, and I started 
for it. I was trying to get to the house to 
ask my way, and you step up and shoot at me! 
Is that the way you treat people out here in the 
country. ” 

“It’s the way we treat chicken thieves." 

‘Can t you see that I am no chicken thief?" 

"You don’t seem to have no bag, but maybe 
the other feller has got that. Where’d he go 
to?" 

'T am alone." 


A Night* s Adventures 


147 


“Maybe you are, an’ maybe you ain’t. The last 
rainy night we had, they took forty-two spring 
chickens from the next neighbor’s an’ I wa’n’t a 
goin’ to lose mine, just as they’re ready for 
market. If you wa’n’t into my hen-house stealing 
chickens I guess you can prove it fast enough. 
I heard ’em a squawking and come as soon as I 
could get the gun. You just walk along ahead 
there to the hen-house door and open it. I want 
to look inside. You needn’t run, cause if you do 
I’ll shoot. What you waiting for?" he queried 
suspiciously. “You needn’t think I’m going to 
let you go without knowing.” 

“Very well. Anything to oblige — I’ll do as you 
say, provided that when I satisfy you that I am 
not a chicken thief, you will show me the way to 
Somerville and sell me a lantern to find the road 
with when it gets lost.” 

“We’ll see about the chickens first,” answered 
the farmer non-committally. 

“But the door is locked. I can’t get it open.” 

“That’s so! It is locked an’ it ain’t been open 
that’s sure! An’ I’d defy a man of your size to 
get into that window.” He lowered his gun, ex- 
amined the hen-house, took a key out of his 


148 A Modern Love Siory 

pocket, unlocked the door and looked over the 
fowls. 

"Are they all there?” 

”1 don’t miss none. It must a been the calf 
a routin’ up that hen that’s settin’ in the straw- 
stack, that I heard. I oughtn’t to have shot at 
ye, an’ that’s a fact." 

"Show me the road to Somerville, and sell me 
a lantern, and I’ll call it all square. How far is 
it from here?" 

"Only about two miles, if you don’t go runnin’ 
up other folkses lanes. Just follow your nose and 
you’ll get there. I’ve got an old lantern that I’ll 
give ye for shootin’ at ye." 

The farmer was as good as his word. The road 
also was good, and the moon shone out, so that 
the lantern was scarcely needed, but our wanderer 
felt safer with it in his possession. 

Somerville was reached without further acci- 
dents worth detailing. There was a light in the 
station, and a young man asleep in his chair in 
the office, but the waiting-room was empty. Our 
traveler walked in and took possession. He 
peeped through the half-open window at the 
clock. Half past two. He could scarcely be- 


A Nighf s Adventures 


149 


lieve it possible. He had looked at his watch 
by the light of the lantern, and concluded that it 
must have stopped, he was so sure that it was 
nearer morning. He studied the time table. The 
first train to the city left this station at 5:15. 
Nearly three hours to wait! 

He took off his hat and examined it, and ceased 
to wonder that one man had taken him for a 
drunkard and the next for a tramp. The man 
who shot at him had not judged from personal 
appearance, as he was not near enough. The 
humorous side of the night’s events had not oc- 
curred to him until now. He straightened his hat, 
brushed the mud from his clothes, and endeav- 
ored to make himself look as presentable as 
possible. In the meantime there was a sharp 
click of instruments, which roused the telegraph 
operator from his slumbers. The message he re- 
ceived was unusual and strangely exciting. 

"Look out for a tall, thick-set man, well armed. 
House robbed, and woman killed. Chased the 
murderer two or three miles to the town ditch 
near Gawbles* woods, and then lost him. He 
may try to board a train at your station. Let us 
know if he does.” 


150 A Modern Love Siory 

The same message was sent to every station 
for fifty miles. The operator looking up from his 
instrument, could see through the window into 
the waiting-room. Our traveler had taken off 
his coat and was endeavoring to remove the 
mud stains therefrom. 

"Tall — thick-set — by Jove! There he is this 
minute! Looks as if he had been chased through 
two ditches. Cool, I vow.’’ 

After a moment’s consideration, without mov- 
ing from his seat, the operator answered the mes- 
sage. 

"Tall, thick-set man, here in the waiting-room, 
brushing mud off of his coat. A hard-looking 
character. I am alone. What shall I do?’’ 

Then followed considerable planning and coun- 
ter-planning on the wires. The operator was in- 
structed to keep close watch of the suspect, and 
arrangements were made to arrest him on what- 
ever train he should take. If he attempted to 
leave the station the operator must keep him in 
sight until he could get help to arrest him. The 
suspect, after putting himself in as good order as 
possible, went up to the office window to have a 
chat with the operator, to help the weary hours 
along. 


A Night's Adventures 151 

“The coolest desperado I ever saw," was the 
operator’s thought. “Hope they’ll get him!" 
The conversation was not a success. 

The outward bound 4:30 train passed, but the 
suspect only went out and looked at it. The 5 :i5 
came at last and the operator drew a long breath 
of relief as the suspect boarded it. He went 
back to his office and telegraphed the news. 

The unconscious suspect made himself as com- 
fortable as possible in the seat next to the win- 
dow. It was a through train, and the passengers 
were just rousing from their night’s rest. At the 
next station a man got on who questioned the 
conductor a moment, walked slowly through the 
car and back again, glancing keenly at all the 
passengers, then seated himself by the side of 
the suspect. This was rather surprising as there 
were plenty of unoccupied seats in the car. As 
I he suspect turned to look at the intruder, he 
felt something cold against his cheek. It was a 
revolver, and a voice said in a low but distinct 
tone : “You are my prisoner. If you try to escape 
I shall shoot. Be quiet. Don’t move." 

“What on earth do you mean?” cried the as- 
tonished suspect. 


152 


A Modern Love Story 


“You are under arrest.” 

“What for?” 

“Don’t try that game. It won’t work; and 
you needn’t shout. I am not deaf.” 

“1 am not either. Put that pistol up, and tell 
me what you are about.” 

“If you really want me to explain publicly what 
you are arrested for, I have no objections; but 
put out your hands!” 

“I won’t! You must be crazy! I think every 
body was crazy last night, and you haven’t got 
over it yet. You’ve got hold of the wrong man. 
What do you want to arrest me for? The only 
crime I have committed was to fall into a ditch, 
and I’m not likely to do it again. I have been 
shot at besides, and I am sick of the whole bus- 
iness. ” 

“I thought you’d own up. Put out your hands. 
No more fooling." 

"Wait a moment. Tell me what it is for. I 
have a right to know that.” 

“For murder.” 

“For murder?” 

“Yes!” 

“When? Where?” 


A JSlighfs Adventures 


153 


"Quit your fooling. This is a serious business 
as you will find. You know all about it.” 

“When? where? who? I have a right to know.” 

"Robbing a house and killing a woman down 
at Elton last night. You’ve been tracked, so there 
is no use in denying it.” 

"It is a mistake. I never saw the place in my 
life. Give me five minutes to think how I can 
convince you. ” 

“Ten if you like, only don’t move.” 

The suspect was silent for a few moments. 

"Please ask the conductor to come here. I 
want to see him.” 

When the conductor came, he proved to be 
a stranger. 

"Conductor, I am in a pretty bad fix. I want 
you to help me out. This man wants to arrest 
me and I want to identify myself. As I boarded 
the train I thought I saw Judge Morton on the 
next car. Was I right?” 

'T don’t know the judge.” 

“He is a white-haired, elderly man sitting in 
the third or fourth seat from the door. Would 
you be kind enough to ask him to step here? Tell 
him a friend wants to see him.” 


154 Modern Love Story 

The conductor departed and soon returned with 
the judge. 

"Good morning, Judge! This officer wants to 
arrest me for robbing a house and murdering a 
woman down at Elton — a town I never saw. Can 
you think of any way to convince him that I am 
not the man he wants?” 

"Very likely I can, as I see the officer is an old 
acquaintance. Mr. Bowden, what are you doing 
with the ex-pastor of the Fifteenth? This gentle- 
man I have known since he was a boy, and I as- 
sure you, that he is no more likely to be robbing 
or murdering than you or I. You’ll have to look 
somewhere else for your man this time.” 

After a little more conversation the officer was 
convinced, and the three chatted pleasantly the 
remainder of the way to the city. 

"Judge, would you mind walking up past my 
house? I have been taken for a drunkard, a 
tramp, a chicken-thief, a robber and murderer in 
the last twelve hours. I begin to feel as if 1 
needed a guardian. I’d like to have you along to 
identify me, in case of necessity.” 

The judge laughed, and they walked up the 
street together. 


CHAPTER IX. 


THE LETTER. 

“Life appears to me too short to be spent in nursing animos- 
ty or registering wrongs.” Charlotte Bronte. 

Our wanderer had a key in his pocket with 
which he unlocked the front door, devoutly hop- 
ing that no one would discover him during the 
process. He was anxious to improve his personal 
appearance before being seen by friends or neigh- 
bors. What if Esther had come back? He hur- 
ried up-stairs without being noticed by the house- 
keeper. It was not necessary that she should be- 
come acquainted with his present plight. Esther 
was not there. He paused in front of the mirror 
and viewed himself. 

“No wonder they took me for a tramp, and a 
burglar, and a murderer! Hat battered out of 
shape; one black eye; one torn coat; a good deal 
of very black mud. Lucky that farmer didn’t have 
155 


156 


A Modern Love Stoty 


me arrested for carrying off his real estate! If 
it had been a city lot, the owner would ! I’ll have 
a bath and some clean clothes and then perhaps 
it may not be dangerous for me to make my ap- 
pearance on the street. Really, I don’t believe 
I have had much to eat since yesterday morn- 
ing! I ate a lunch on the train yesterday noon, 
and forgot all about supper. But 1 won’t have 
time to wait for breakfast. I wonder if I’ll ever 
tell Esther all about last night? I’ll make it my 
business to get ready and get over there before 
that nine o’clock mail. Esther must never see 
that letter!” 

At a quarter to nine o’clock he was walking up 
the steps of Esther’s old home. He rang the 
bell, wondering who would answer it. It was 
Esther’s mother. She gave him a startled glance. 

“Why, Wayland! What has happened?" 

"Nothing serious; my black eye is the result 
of a fall. Where is Esther?” 

"But — you don’t look right. Really, Wayland, 
you will get killed sometime by those very dis- 
reputable rogues you are trying to reform. When 
you are late we feel so worried.” 

"But you haven’t told me where Esther is!” 


The Letter 


157 


“Don’t you know? Didn’t you get her note? 
She is out to Helen’s. Frank was brought home 
with a broken leg, and Helen was nearly fright- 
ened to death. She sent one messenger for me 
and another for Esther. I was out there all day 
yesterday. Frank is doing nicely but Esther isn’t 
looking well. She is expecting you on every 
train. ” 

“But the housekeeper said she came home!” 

“She did. She came to go with me but 1 had 
already gone. She followed on the next train. 
I wish you would go out and take her home. She 
isn’t fit to be there and they have a trained nurse, 
so Helen doesn’t really need her. I hope you 
will start on your trip in a day or two. I be- 
lieve you both need a change and a rest.” 

“Did a letter come here for Esther this morn- 
ing?” 

"I haven’t seen any. I don’t know whether 
the postman has come yet or not. The door-bell 
rang just as Harry started to go to Helen’s. It 
may have been the mail. If there was a letter 
for Esther he would put it in his pocket and take 
it out to her. You’ve just about time to catch the 
first train, or will you stop and rest a while?” 


15B A Moder^i Love Story 

‘Til try for the first train — but — if that letter 
should come here, will you please take care of it 
and keep it for me? I wrote it last night and 
I’ve changed my mind about some of the things 
in it, and I would rather Esther shouldn’t see it. 
Will you keep it for me?” 

"I suppose so,” she said hesitatingly. "You 
say it is one you wrote?” 

"Yes; I would like to keep the contents of the 
letter secret a while longer. I would wait for it 
myself, if I was sure it would come soon. But 
as you say, perhaps Harry has taken it to her. 
Anything you wish to send?” 

“No, thank you. I hope you will find Esther 
well. Good-bye.” 

If Harry had that letter what was to be done? 
So she had noticed Esther’s paleness too. What 
madness possessed him to write that letter! What 
could have become of Esther’s note! Did street 
cars and trains ever move so slowly before? Es- 
ther expecting him, looking for him, worrying 
over his absence, needing him, and he off going 
to sleep in the woods, and falling into ditches, 
and getting himself shot at and arrested! He 
felt very trifling and small! If the letter should 


The Letter 


159 


reach her before he did ! The thought caused 
him agony, and if ever a man “regretted having 
given himself up to be governed by anger, 
Wayland was that man. 

Esther’s sister, Helen, had recently married 
and lived in a small suburban town. When he 
left the train, he walked rapidly the first few 
blocks, but as he approached the house his foot- 
steps became slower and slower. He dreaded 
the meeting. If Esther had received that letter 
how could he look her in the face! The windows 
were open and he could hear voices in the little 
parlor. He knocked, and then he heard Esther 
say : 

“I think it must be Wayland. Let me go to 
the door,” and a moment later she stood before 
him. 

“Why, Wayland! What is the matter? Did 
some of those ruffians attack you? I have been 
wondering why you did not come. Are you hurt? 
Frank is all right. The doctor says he is doing 
nicely. Come into the parlor and sit down in the 
rocking chair. The doctor is here now. I’ll ask 
him for something to put on that bruise, where 
somebody must have hit you.” 


i6o A M Oder 71 Love Stoij 

He followed her into the parlor, threw aside 
his hat, clasped her in his arms and kissed her 
again and again. “Esther! Esther! Esther!” was 
all he could say. 

“One would think we had not seen each other 
for months,” she remarked, withdrawing herself 
from his arms, but examining the bruise with a 
soft caressing touch. “How did it happen?” 

“It is nothing serious. I fell and hurt it.” 

“Sit down and let me tell the doctor before he 
goes. But why didn’t you come last night? I 
looked and looked for you!” 

“How could I? I didn’t know where you were !” 

“Didn’t you read my note?” 

“I couldn’t find any to read.” 

“Couldn’t find it? I put it right there on the 
top of the bible. You couldn’t step “into the 
room without seeing it!” 

“But I did! I stepped all around the room 
and couldn’t find a thing of it.” 

“Did you see Ruby?” 

“She had gone to Clara’s.” 

“It must be she read that note and then put 
it in her pocket instead of leaving it for you! 
She is so careless!” 


The Letter 


i6i 


“Very likely that is exactly what she did, for 
no note could I find, and I looked everywhere.” 

As she attempted to pass out of the room, he 
caught her, and held her and kissed her again 
in spite of her laughing resistance. 

“Wayland, do you love me?” she asked, with 
a gleam of mischief in her eyes. 

“Better than my own life, ” he answered gravely. 

“I expected you to say, ‘Esther, do you need 
to ask?’ and I was going to say, ‘No; I knew it 
without asking.’ But that doctor may come out 
at any moment. I fear he will think us silly,” 
she continued struggling to free herself. He did 
not let her go. 

“Esther, do you love me?” he asked gravely. 
There was something in his manner, and a look 
in his eyes that constrained her to answer, though 
she would not be serious. 

“O perhaps — a little — just a trifle,” she an- 
swered softly. “The doctor is coming! I hear 
him. Let me go, quick!” 

She loved him! She loved him! The world 
looked bright again. The letter had not reached 
her and he would take good care that it never 
should. 


i 62 


A Modern Love Story 


A few hours later they went home together, as 
happy as two children over their proposed trip. 
As they entered their room Esther looked around 
in surprise. 

“What is the matter? It looks as if burglars 
had been here! My work-basket upset! The 
curtain tbrn! The bureau drawers all open and 
everything turned upside down! What does it 
mean?” 

“It merely means that troublesome husband of 
yours was hunting for a note which he couldn’t 
find,” replied that individual meekly. 

“Do you suppose I will ever be able to find 
anything again? Oh, Wayland! What’s this here 
in the closet? I wondered at your coming over 
in a black suit this hot day. What in the world 
did you do to yourself and your clothes, last 
night? Your hat looks as if it had been used for 
a foot-ball!” 

“Yes; I thought it would disgrace the hall rack 
so I brought it up here. You see I fell into a 
ditch head first, and then walked on my hat.” 

■‘A ditch! Where could you find a ditch, big 
enough to fall into? And your coat is torn, and 
there is mud on everything! And you haven’t told 


The Letter 


163 


me yet what happened. It looks very much as 
if you would have to get you a new suit if we 
start to morrow. Did somebody try to kill you?” 

"No-o, not exactly. I’ll go and get the suit 
now. ” 

“That is because 5^ou don’t want to tell me 
what happened,” she said severely. “I believe 
somebody tried to murder you.” 

“No, indeed! that is not it at all. I was lone- 
some, so I took a train and rode off into the 
country. I found some woods and went to sleep, 
and the next thing I knew it was raining. It 
was pitch dark too, and when I climbed a fence, 
the top rail broke, and I went head first into 
a ditch. I fell down two or three times before I 
got to the road, and had a great time generally 
finding my way out, but I donT think that rail 
was particularly anxious to murder me.” 

“But why didn’t you come over after me?” 

“How did I know what minute you would come 
home? Harry comes with you so often, I hardly 
thought you would need a double escort. But 
what have you done with his picture that was 
hanging up here?” 

“I took some of the pictures down and packed 


164 


A Modern Love Story 


them away until after our return. They are bet- 
ter off than hanging here in the dust and smoke. 
I packed my dresses away too. ” 

“I am going after the suit now.” 

“And I’ll put the room in order while you are 
gone. ” 

When he came back the room was in order 
and she was sitting thoughtfully by the window. 

“Wayland, did you find a letter in my work-bas- 
ket?” she asked. 

•‘Yes. ” 

“What did you do with it?” 

He looked at her keenly and saw that the ques- 
tion must be answered. He took a chair and 
seated himself by her. 

"I was looking for your note and thought per- 
haps 1 had found it, or that the letter was an 
explanation of your absence. So — I read it.” 

"It was very careless of me. I never meant 
you to see that letter. I ought to have destroyed 
it. I didn’t intend that you should be troubled 
with it. Helen’s message was so sudden that I 
forgot all about it, and left it in my work-basket. 
I really don’t see what object the wuiter could 
have in sending me such a letter as that! I 


The Letter 


165 

thought about burning it, and then I thought if 
they should undertake to persecute you in some 
other way, it might be well to have this to help 
find out who was doing it. So I decided to keep 
it, but not to let you know anything about it un- 
less it was necessary. I couldn’t think where to 
put it, for I couldn’t bear to have it among my 
other letters. I was re-reading it and consider 
ing what to do with it, when the message came 
from Helen, and it seems I dropped it in the 
work-basket, exactly where you would be sure to 
find it! Now that you have seen it, you may 
do what you think best with it." 

"But I found a slip of paper with just these 
words on it and they were in your handwriting: 
‘Look in the work-basket.”’ 

"I don’t know how that could be! Oh yes; I 
do! That was to tell Ruby where to find a piece 
of satin I had painted for Clara. I wanted her 
to be sure to take it with her.” 

He felt like a criminal. Her love for him and 
confidence in him had been unshaken, while he 
— ! And yet, there were just one or two more 
points that he wanted cleared up. He never 
should be satisfied until he knew how it had all 
come about. 


A Moderti Love Story 


1 66 

"I believe the writer expressed a desire to see 
you, in order to give you further information in. 
regard to my character. Did you go?” he asked 
in as light a tone as he could command. 

"Did I go! No, indeed! What a question? 

I am surprised that you should ask,” she an- 
swered indignantly. 

“I met Brown and he said that he saw you in 
company with another lady, talking with some 
one near the corner of Fifteenth and M — street. 
So — I thought — I didn’t knov7 — ” 

"What did you think?” she asked with an ex- 
pression of surprise and pain on her face. “I was 
there. I went with Mrs. James to visit that sick 
girl she told us about. You knew I was going 
to see her. What did you think?” she repeated 
as he hesitated. 

"I thought — perhaps — you went to ask,” he 
answered slowly. 

“Oh Wayland! How could you think that!” 

"The postman is coming,” he remarked, glanc- 
ing out of the window. “He is on the steps now, 
and he has letters in his hand. I will go down 
and bring them up.” 

The postman handed him two letters, one for 


The Letter 


167 


himself and one for Esther. He tore his open 
and glanced at it — it was of no moment. But 
hers! It was Harry’s handwriting, and it was 
thick and heavy. It probably contained the 
missing letter which Esther must not read! What 
was to be done! Probably Harry had the letter 
with him while at Helenas but had forgotten to 
deliver it. As soon as he found it in his pocket 
he had written a note to put with it and posted 
it. 

Then a terrible temptation assailed Wayland. 
Harry had seen her that morning. There could 
be nothing of importance in his note. Why not 
destroy it? Surely he had a right to do what he 
would with his own letter, and it would be so 
hard to explain. Why not destroy it? But — 
could he ever look Esther in the face again, if 
he did that? What could he say when she asked 
if there was any mail for her! Esther always 
told the truth. He had never lied to her — should 
he begin now? He could not. He would try to 
be worthy x)f her — but what a miserable failure 
he was making of it! He hoped she would never 
find out what a wretch he was! He would at 
least try to meet her truth and honesty with the 


i68 


A Modern Love Story 


same qualities. He took the letter up-stairs and 
placed it in her lap. 

“From Harry? I wonder why he should write? 
And such a thick letter too? How can he have 
so much to say, when I saw him this morning?" 

He watched her as she opened it. Yes, there 
was the letter he had writen when he was too an- 
gry to realize what he was doing. There was 
also a note from Harry which she was reading. 

“And so you wrote to me last night, did you,” 
she asked with a smile. “Harry had the letter in 
his pocket and took it down to Helen’s this morn- 
ing but forgot to give it to me. I told him I was 
coming home so he sent it, thinking it would 
get here about as soon as I did.” 

“But now, as you have me, you don’t need the 
letter,” remarked Wayland lightly, trying with 
gentle force to remove it from her fingers. She 
did not release her hold upon it, but clung the 
tighter. 

“It must be a love letter,” she said. “I have 
had so few letters from you, Wayland — just seven 
in all, I think. I have them put in a box, every 
one, and this will make eight. Shall we read 
it together, or shall I put it away to read some 
time when you are gone and I am lonesome?” 


The Letter 


169 


“We will read it together if you must read it,” 
he said with something so like a sob in his voice 
that it startled her. “Esther, I beg of you, give 
me the letter. Do not read it. I have changed 
my mind about — something,” he added hesitat- 
ingly. “Give it to me. I don’t want you to read 
it.” 

“But, Wayland, it is mine! You sent it to me. 
You wanted me to read it when you wrote it — 
or you would not have written it. Were you an- 
gry because I had gone away? Let me read it 
and see — I want to know what you were thinking 
about last night.” 

"It is yours, Esther, I do not deny that. You 
have a right to read it, but I beg of you — give 
it to me!” 

“We will read it together,” she continued, 
laying her face against his, and putting her arm 
around his neck. “If you were not altogether 
too cross about it, perhaps I will forgive you,” 
and she pressed her lips upon his forehead. 

“Esther, if you love me, give me that letter.” 

"If I love you?” she asked wonderingly. “Why, 
Wayland, what is in it? What dreadful thing 
did you write? It can’t be that you thought — ” 


170 


A Modern Love Story 


She withdrew herself from his arms and looked 
searchingly in his face. "Wayland, what did you 
think?” she asked with a voice sharp with pain. 
‘‘You did not — you could not — did you think that 
I believed what was in that letter? That I — oh, 
my husband, I never doubted you, never, until 
now.” She covered her face with her hands and 
turned from him. He would have clasped her in 
his arms but she would not permit it. ‘‘Wait, 
not now. Let me think a little!” she said. ‘‘You 
frighten me. ” 

He rose to his feet, and stood with folded arms 
and watched her in silence. This was bad enough, 
but if she read the letter it would be worse. Es- 
ther was a proud woman. If she read that letter 
he feared that she would never forgive him. 

‘‘Esther, look at me! Do 3'ou doubt your hus- 
band?” 

She turned toward him and looked at him 
earnestl}^ for one long moment. 

‘‘Wayland, I beg your pardon,” she said in a 
low tone. He opened his arms and she rested 
within them. "Forgive me, Wayland, I am 
ashamed that I should have doubted you for onQ 
moment even.” 


The Letter 


171 

“My darling, I am glad that you did, for that 
proves that you are human, and I was beginning 
to fear that you were an angel, and would be 
slipping away out of my life. I am not good 
enough to feel sure of keeping an angel with 
me. You look so frail, so tired, that I feel wor- 
ried about you. Now, darling, while I hold you 
in my arms let me confess, and because you 
yourself have doubted, you will find it easier to 
forgive. I came home and found you gone. I 
found a note, no explanation — except that letter. 
The housekeeper could tell me nothing about you. 
Ruby was not here to explain. I became un- 
reasonably angry, and I sat down and wrote you 
a letter of which I am thoroughly ashamed. Es- 
ther, darling, forgive me, and let me burn the 
wretched thing. Kiss me, dear, and say you for- 
give me ” 

She made no answer. Surprised and pained at 
her silence, he looked into her face. She had 
fainted. The letter was still tightly clasped in 
her unconscious fingers. 


CHAPTER X. 


ON SUMMER SEAS. 

“How is it that the poets have said so many fine things about 
our first love, so few about our later love! Are their first poems 
their best? or are they not the best which come from their ful- 
ler thought, their larger experience, their deeper-rooted afiect- 
ions? The boy’s flute-like voice has its own charm: but the 
man’s should yield a richer, deeper music.’ George Eliot. 

They were on deck. Esther was reclining in 
an easy chair, which Wayland had obtained the 
captain’s permission to bring on board. A light 
shawl was thrown about her shoulders, and an 
open book lay in her lap. Her eyes were fixed 
dreamily upon the blue waters through which the 
vessel was gliding. Besides the beating of the 
engine and the murmur of the waves, the sound 
of laughing voices reached her ears. The most 
of the passengers were gathered at the other end 
of the vessel under the awning, where they could 
obtain a better view of the shores they were 
passing. Esther enjoyed this view where noth- 

172 


On Summer Seas 


173 


ing was visible save sea and sky, illuminated 
the brightest sunsli^ne. She was studying the 
tints of the water, and wondering if she would 
ever be able to reproduce those tints with mere 
paints. 

“They are holding quite an animated discussion 
over there,” said Wa^dand, approaching her and 
bringing with him a chair in which he seated 
himself at her side. 

“'\yhat is the subject?” she inquired carelessly. . 

“fs marriage a failure?” he answered. “What 
do you think?” 

"Sometimes it is, and sometimes it is not. 
There is no general rule — marriage is neither al- 
ways a failure nor always a success,” she an- 
swered lightly looking away across the sea. 

“The general verdict of the passengers seems 
to be that it is very apt to be a failure. I notice 
that the bride and bridegroom — you remember 
you pointed them out to me at breakfast — are 
quite shocked at the tone of the discussion. It 
evidently had not occurred to them that marriage 
was so often a failure.” 

“I think their marriage is quite likely to prove 
a failure. ” 


174 


A Modern Love Story 


"Why?" 

"She is so evidently his superior." 

"I had not thought of that!" 

"Where the difference is so great, I do not see 
how a marriage can be happy. A woman would 
better be in her coffin than married to a man who 
is distinctly her inferior. " 

"Then I fear the world is full of unhappy mar- 
riages, " he answered a little sadly. "It is sel- 
dom that we see husband and wife of equal abil- 
ity, education and culture.” 

"People are so thoughtless in regard to what 
should concern them most. I was not thinking 
particularly of mental ability or education but of 
moral fitness. The good woman who is married 
to a bad man — think what torture she suffers! 
And it must work the same way if a good man 
is married to a bad woman. Still, he is sup- 
posed to be stronger, perhaps he is better able 
to bear it. Then again, the man who is out in 
the business world can forget home difficulties 
better than the woman who stays at home and 
perhaps broods over the differences which will 
come up in every family. Marriage is a danger- 
ous experiment for any woman and I wonder that 
so many of them try it.” 


On Summer Seas 


175 


Her eyes were fixed upon the water, and her 
face wore a far-away look. He watched her in- 
tently and wondered if it could be that she was 
thinking of her own marriage as a failure. 

“Tlien you are sure that it is a more dangerous 
experiment for the woman than for the man," he 
asked quietly. 

"Yes; when a woman marries she makes a bid 
for happiness. If her husband proves unworthy, 
she has no other world to fall back upon, as he 
has. She must drag out her dreary existence, 
usually at his side, for if she leaves him, she will 
have a host of bitter memories, and a sense of 
unfulfilled duties that will follow her to the day 
of her death. A failure is fatal to her happiness 
for life. She can never be what she would have 
been if she had retained her freedom. I believe 
that the woman of the future will think longer 
before she enters the bonds of matrimony. As 
a result there will be fewer unhappy wives ; fewer 
women who love what they imagine the man to 
be, instead of what he really is. That is the 
cause of the most of the unhappiness in wedded 
life. Each marries an ideal, instead of the real 
person. When they become acquainted with each 


176 


A Modern Love Story 


other the disappointment is so bitter that love 
is lost — buried under a mass of disappointed 
hopes and broken ideals. ” 

"I have been particularly fortunate,” he said, 
watching her closely as he spoke, ‘‘I have found 
marriage an unqualified success — in both cases. ” 

“Thank you for the compliment,” she replied 
turning toward him with a smile on her face, 
“You and Jennie certainly seemed very happy to- 
gether. ” 

What did she mean? She was watching the 
sea again, with that same far-away look in her 
eyes. Was her ideal shattered? Would it be 
possible for any mortal man to live up to her 
ideal? How far had he succeeded in doing it? 
He thought of his matrimonial short-comings or 
of what might appear such to Esther. She was 
proud and sensitive. Could she forgive? Was 
that the one fault in her otherwise perfect char- 
acter? Her standard was high and it was so 
easy to fall below it! What did she mean by say- 
ing that he and Jennie seemed happy together, 
and saying no more. Did she intend him to un- 
derstand that she was not happy? He too watched 
the waves and there was a long silence. 


On Summer Seas 


177 


“You look troubled, Wayland — what is it?” she 
asked gently. 

Practically they were as much alone as if on 
a desert island. There was nothing but the sea, 
and the sky, and the sun, to look and listen. 

“What were you thinking about while I was 
gone?” he asked, wondering if she woul(^ men- 
tion the letter which had caused him so much 
anxiety. 

'T was thinking what a glorious thing it is to 
be alive; to be an active, conscious part of the 
universe. The earth, the sea, the sky, are all so 
beautiful on such a day as this! Merely to exist 
is good.” 

"But death follows close on the heels of life,” 
he answered sadly. "You look so frail, I fear 
you will slip away from me some of these days. ” 

"Yet death is nothing but a change,” she an- 
swered slowly. "Why should we fear it? If we 
use the opportunities of this life wisely, the next 
will give us greater opportunities. That thought 
alone is enough to rouse our sleeping energies, 
to awaken the highest and noblest within us. 
Thank God for life and for death also, which is 
the awakening to another life. As for me — I am 


178 


A Modern Love Story 


ready for the change when it comes, but I think 
I shall remain with you many years. That doc- 
tor should not have frightened you, by telling 
you about my heart. All will be well if I do not 
overwork — but I do love to paint! There is a 
fascination about the work, which leads me to 
tax my strength beyond its limit. Something 
else is troubling you, Wayland — what is it? Let 
us have no secrets from each other. I am tired 
of secrets. ” 

He looked around. There was no one within 
hearing distance, unless it were a weary bird 
which had perched on the upper deck to rest, 
and was looking down on them with as much 
curiosity as its tired little body could contain. 

“Esther, have you forgiven me for burning that 
wretched letter? I know it was not a brave or 
manly thing to do ... to take advantage of you 
while you were unconscious . . . and take from 
3^ou what you did not willingly give me . . . but 
. . . Esther, will you forgive me?” 

“I would have given it to you, Wayland! I 
never would have read it without your consent. 
You do not think me so willful as that do you? 
So you see there is nothing to forgive. But 1 


On Summer Seas 


179 


really would like to know why you burned it!" 

"Must I tell you?” 

"I leave it entirely with you. There must have 
been something dreadful in that letter, but if you 
do not wish to tell me about it, you need not. I 
remember though, that you used to think confes- 
sion was good for the soul,” she added playfully, 
"when you urged me to confess all the arts and 
wiles by which I lured you into the bonds of 
matrimony. Perhaps, if you should confess you 
would feel better — that is what you used to tell 
me!" 

He did not smile. 

"The letter is nothing,” she added a moment 
later. "Surely you cannot be worrying over that! 
And as to my health, it would be wrong for 
either of us to worry about that. I had almost 
forgotten that letter, until you recalled it to my 
memory. I should have given it to you unread 
when I found you really wanted it. I can trust 
you, my husband!” 

He felt as if a weight was lifting from his 
heart, as he listened to these words. Perhaps 
then it was not altogether the excitement in re- 
gard to the letter which had caused her to faint. 


i8o A Modern Love Story 

but as she and the doctor said, overwork. He 
had burned the letter. It was the least of two 
evils. He could not let her read it. She would 
forgive him for burning it more readil}' than for 
writing it, if she knew its contents. If she was 
willing to let the subject pass he was thankful 
to do so. Further remarks would only serve to 
arouse suspicion. 

“I saw Profesor DeLong last week, and had 
quite a long talk with him.” 

“Did you? What did he say?” 

“A great many things; some of which I be- 
lieved, some I doubted, and some I disbelieved.” 

“Nobody is expected to believe what does not 
seem reasonable to him.” 

“Very nearly the reply he made when I stated 
some of my objections. A person can’t see until 
he does see, and a blind man is not to blame for 
not seeing the sunshine. But he mistakes, if, 
because he cannot see it, he declares that there 
is no sunshine. Professor DeLong indicated that 
if my spiritual development was not sufficiently 
advanced to enable me to see certain things, 
which he calls truths, I have no more right to 
say that they are not true, than the blind man 
has to say that there is no sunshine.” 


On Summer Seas 


i$i 


"And that doctrine does not suit you?" 

"Not exactly. You see I am not quite willing 
to acknowledge that other people’s spirituality, 
inner perceptions, higher self, or whatever you 
choose to call it — is more highly developed than 
mine. It makes me feel like an inferior crea- 
tion. " 

"Perhaps it would be pleasanter for us to go 
through life without feeling our inferiority — but 
it might not be best. Physically, compared with 
the most of the men one meets, you are well de- 
veloped. But look at our captain ! He towers 
above you! If he should try, he could pick you 
up and throw you out into the sea, in spite of 
your best efforts to prevent it. Do you feel like 
an inferior creation when you are in his pres- 
ence?” 

"Not necessarily. Physically he is my super- 
ior, but I possess qualities which he does not, 
which helps to even up matters. He can take 
charge of a vessel, I, of an audience. ’’ 

"Exactly; certain of your faculties are more 
highly developed than certain of his, and vice 
versa. Why should it hurt your feelings more to 
acknowledge superiority of inner development. 


i 82 


A Modern Love Story 


than to acknowledge superiority of physical de- 
velopment, or even of mental development? Now 
that astronomer you were talking with half an 
hour ago, has done everything with figures, ex- 
cept to count the stars in the universe. Does 
your inferiority to him in mathematics disturb 
your peace of mind?” 

“Not at all!” 

“Then, if the superiority of the captain and 
the astronomer is not offensive to your self-love, 
why should you object to the superiority of the 
man whose inner senses are more highly developed 
than yours?” 

“It would be a little hard to tell why — but I do 
object! Why should he be given powers which 
are not granted to me?” 

“Speaking from your point of view, why should 
the captain be given greater strength, or the as- 
tronomer greater mathematical ability than most 
other men possess? Speaking from a theosoph- 
ical point of view, it is because they have earned 
them. We are what we have made ourselves. 
Our character is in our own hands, and character 
decides everything. The future is ours to make 
of it what we will; only we must pay our debts. 


On Sununer Seas 


183 


We cannot escape paying the penalty for our 
misdeeds. Justice, eternal justice, is the watch- 
word of the universe.” 

“Justice, eternal justice! Are you so sure, Es- 
ther? It is the one thing that puzzles me more 
than all others! How to justify the ways of God 
to man! How to convince myself and others that 
God is surely just. I have more sympathy than 
I used to have, with those who doubt. The world 
is so full of what seems to be injustice. How can 
I convince myself and others that it is only seem- 
ing and not real? God’s love is more apparent 
to me than God’s justice. While you, I hear 
you speak oftener of justice than of any other at- 
tribute. Where do you get your ideas? From 
Professor DeLong, or out of that pile of queer 
books on your study table? I spent an hour over 
those books the other day, and I must confess 
that I found nothing in them, which seemed to 
me worthy of a sensible man’s attention. Two 
or three of them were utterly unintelligible to 
me — as much so as if they had been written in 
Japanese. Some of the others contained queer 
looking figures with queerer explanations, while 
some of them seemed to be ghost stories written 
for grown-up people.” 


184 


A Modern Love Story 


“You seem to have been unfortunate in your 
selection. It is the same with theosophy as 
with all other topics; there are a few good books 
on the subject and a great many poor ones. The 
next time you wish to spend an hour on theos- 
ophy, let me select the books for you. Children 
learning to read usually begin with the primer, 
and would find the fourth or fifth reader quite as 
unintelligible as if written in Japanese.” 

“But I am not a child, and I supposed myself 
capable of understanding English. The contents 
of some of those books are nothing but stuff and 
nonsense to me. ” 

“I believe you were not particularly fond of 
mathematics and never pursued the subject 
further than algebra and geometry. Suppose the 
astronomer should invite you to his room, and 
show you some of his favorite works on trigo- 
nometry, conic sections, analytical geometry, or 
calculus, and you should spend an hour looking at 
them. They are written in English, but would 
you find them intelligible? Would they not be 
stuff and nonsense — to you?” 

“I grant your point, but is it a parallel case? 
Why should theosophy be unintelligible to a per- 
son of ordinary intelligence?” 


On Summer Seas 


185 


"Why should algebra be unintelligible to a 
person of ordinary intelligence, until by study 
he has prepared himself to understand it? I think 
it is a parallel case. None of the mysteries of 
the universe can be understood, without serious 
study and reflection. An advanced work on the- 
osophy would be just as unintelligible to a be- 
ginner as an advanced algebra would be to the 
person who has never studied algebra. Way- 
land, do you wish to study theosophy?” she 
asked, looking at him searchingly. 

"Would you advise me to?” 

"Do just as you choose. That is a matter which 
every individual must settle for himself.” 

"Professor DeLong said that a man who was 
satisfied with his religious belief had no need of 
theosophy. ” 

"On the principle that a man who wears a 
good coat that fits him has no need of another 
until the first wears out, or he outgrows it.” 

"But suppose he wants a better one?” 

"That shows that the one he is wearing does not 
meet all of his needs.” 

"And you think the theosophical coat would?” 

"I did not say that. It would be entirely ac- 


i86 


A Modern Love Story 


cording to the spiritual development of the in- 
dividual. The theosophical coat might not fit at 
all.” 

'Tn the main my theological coat suits me 
very well ; but I fear there are a few places which 
are getting a little threadbare! So — evidently 
theosophy is not for me at present.” 

“Evidently it is not. ” 

“Still, I would like to know a little more about 
it! Thoughts are things, Professor DeLong says, 
and the spiritual is much more real than the 
physical. The spirit is immortal, and bodies are 
merely the clothes it wears. Am I quoting him 
aright?” 

“Yes.” 

“I would like to know what arguments he 
brings forth to prove some of his statements. 
Perhaps I will go with you some day — shall I?” 

“Certainly — if you would like to go, I shall 
be glad to have you. But remember — it is your 
offer not my request. Don^t raise your expecta- 
tions too high. Don’t expect to see flowers fall- 
ing from the ceiling, or letters sailing through the 
air, or ghosts oozing through the walls. We are not 
adepts, we are only students gathering ourselves 


On Summer Seas 


187 


together, to read and discuss important books re- 
lating to the laws which govern the spiritual uni- 
verse. We are trying to find out how much it is 
possible for the spirit of man to accomplish. If 
you wish to come and study with us, you will be 
most welcome, but don’t expect to see wonders, 
for if you do you will be disappointed.” 

There was a short silence which he broke by 
remarking, "You appear to have a great deal of 
faith in the womah of the future, Esther.” 

‘T have. It seems to me that every woman 
who attended the World’s Congress of Women 
must have. It was grand, Wayland! I couldn’t 
help wishing you were there! To see representa- 
tive women workers from all over the world, 
meeting together, and discussing plans for wo- 
man’s work in the future; work which will reach 
out into almost every home in almost every land. 
And when those pioneers, Mrs. Stone and Miss 
Anthony told us of the persecutions which wo- 
men who wanted to have their way about how 
the world’s worK should be done, suffered, less 
than half a century ago, it made us feel that the 
woman of to-day must do great things in order 
to prove herself worthy of her opportunities. 


1 88 A Modern Love Story 

Mrs.* Stone, gentlest and most lovable of wo- 
men, told us how, years ago, while standing on 
the platform lecturing, she had books and eggs 
thrown at her, and once was drenched from head 
to foot by a pail of cold water thrown over her 
through a window near her head. What a con 
trast to that afternoon in Washington Hall when 
an audience of 3,000 people rose to their feet 
with cheers and the waving of handkerchiefs to 
greet Miss Anthony! And how happy she looked! 
She told us of the difficulties she experienced 
forty years ago, and pointed out the contrast be- 
tween then and now, the past and the present.” 

"There is a change. The men of to da}^ do not 
throw cold water upon lady speakers — literally." 

"Sometimes they do figuratively.” 

"O well! we don’t expect as much of common 
ordinary men as we do of the women of the fu- 
ture.” 

"You may smile as much as you please and look 
lofty, but the Woman’s Congress was grand! If 
you had been there you would know how to ap- 
preciate it! If I had been obliged to miss one, 
I would rather have missed seeing the White City 
itself than to have missed# the Woman’s Con- 
gress. ” 


On Summer Seas 189 

"O Esther! the whole World’s Fair, art gallery 
and all!” 

“I forgot the art gallery just for a moment; 
no, I couldn’t afford to miss that. I am thankful 
that I was not obliged to miss any of it. But the 
Woman’s Congress was the best part of it all^ 
except the art gallery. There were so many wo 
men that I had always wanted to see." 

"Were any of them married?” 

"Of course! dozens of them!” 

“What could have made them so foolish? I 
suppose you vomen of the future will change all 
of that!” 

"The woman of the future will marry, but she 
will not hold herself so cheap. She will marry 
better men." 

"Where on earth is she to find them? I’m 
thinking she will have to establish relations with 
some other planet and have them shipped in. 
Perhaps the imported article would suit better 
than the native.” 

"How absurd you are, Wayland ! Now as a 
punishment I shall not tell you a word about the 
other wonderful women I saw and heard at the 
Congress. ” 


190 


A Modem Love Story 


She opened her book and tried to fix her at- 
tention upon it, but her eyes continually wandered 
to the sea. The play of light upon the water 
interested her more than the book. He watched 
ever}^ expression of her face with the keenest in- 
terest. Was she happy? Or was she disappointed 
in her married life? Had her marriage in her 
own estimation proved a failure? He felt as if 
he would gladly give a year of his life to know 
that she was satisfied. Would he ever know? 
Would she ever tell him? Esther was still a 
problem — as she had always been. If she was 
satisfied, why would she never acknowledge it? 
It seemed as if a happy woman would be willing 
to own that she was happy. He had done his 
best to make her happy, but if he had failed — 
what then? He must know whether he had failed 
or not. Unhappiness would kill a woman like 
Esther. The world without Esther! What would 
it be like? It did not seem to him as if he 
would be able to face it. But her health was 
failing. The doctor seemed puzzled. Esther 
herself said it was overwork; that all she needed 
was rest .... She also said there should be no 
secrets between them. Thus they sat in silence 


On Summer Seas 


191 

watching the track of the vessel, until in the dis- 
tance it faded into the surrounding waste of 
waters. 

“Esther, do you love me?" he asked abruptly. 

“Wayland, do you need to ask?” she replied, 
looking toward him in surprise. 

“Yes; 1 would know whether it is duty that 
binds your life to mine, or love. I know you 
well enough to realize, that if you had ceased to 
love me — unless the matrimonial bond proved 
galling beyond endurance — you would still re- 
main with me, a dutiful wife, seeking to hide 
from me your unhappiness, and to make my life 
as pleasant as lay in your power. Esther, I 
cannot bear to think that perhaps your love is 
less than it was the day you married me. You 
have grown dearer and dearer to me, as the years 
have passed, but it has been a long time since 
1 have heard you say that you loved me. If I 
ask the question you always evade it ; sometimes 
you answer with a kiss, sometimes with another 
question. You do just as I am sure you would 
do, if the spirit of love had fled, and duty alone 
kept you with me. Esther, if you still love me, 
tell me so, at least once ... I long to hear you 


192 


A Modern Love Story 


say it. If you do not — " his voice grew husky 
with emotion, “that I must know. 1 will bear 
it as well as I can — but I must know. This sus- 
pense is too hard.” 

She had been looking across the waters, but as 
he finished speaking she turned her face toward 
him and he looked into her eyes as if he would 
read her very soul. What did he see there? 
Something which filled him with a sense of glad- 
ness and caused his heart to leap with joy. 

"Wayland, I love you with my whole heart and 
soul,” she answered in a low tone. ‘T thought 
you knew — how could you doubt?” 

“I feared that I had disappointed you. If you 
loved me, Esther, why would you not acknowl- 
edge it?” 

She continued in the same low thrilling tone: 
‘T thought you knew that I loved you better than 
life itself — that without you the world would be 
dark indeed! I thought you knew that I was 
holden with the cords of love! Once I was free, 
but now I am in bondage. I am no longer an 
independent woman with a will of my own. Your 
will is mine, your wish my law. My love has 
grown with the years, and my greatest fear has 


On Summer Seas 


193 


been that you would be disappointed in me. I 
love you, Wayland, I love you! If I should say 
it as often as I think it, the sound of my voice 
would weary your ears. Never doubt it again, 
Wayland, never — unless you change your nature 
and become unworthy of love. I am a better 
woman because I have known you. You are help- 
ing me onward and upward. Your faith helps 
me; your love of righteousness helps and strength- 
ens me. Where I am weak, you are strong. My 
whole earthly life is bound up in you. I fear 
sometimes that it is wrong for one mortal to love 
another as I love you. And yet — it is through 
human love that we learn how great is God’s 
love. ’’ 

His face lighted up while she was speaking. 
He lifted her hand to his lips. “Thank you, 
Esther,” he said in a low tone which expressed 
deep emotion, and then there was a silence which 
spoke more than words. It seemed to them as if 
they were lifted a little above the earth and 
things of earth. Heaven was close at hand. 

But they were soon reminded that earth has its 
claims by the voices of their companions, who 
were loitering toward them. 


194 ^ Modern Love Story 

“Esther, you are an angel,” he whispered. “I 
look at you every day with fear and trembling to 
see if the wings have begun to grow,” and then 
he added more seriously, “You have lifted a 
weight from my heart. Your praise makes me 
feel most unworthy . . . There are half a dozen 
people coming this way and bringing their chairs. 
They are still discussing that interminable ques- 
tion, which each couple must settle for themselves 
— is marriage a failure? What do you think, 
Esther?” 

“Not in our case. Marriage is never a failure 
when it is a union of souls.” 


THE END 


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